MejavelNi Fly for Me
by sparticletam
Summary: On the planet JaoToam, Daniel finds someone to love. But both the Sg1 team and the Toam people are unaware of the price the Toam have paid for resistance to the Goa'uld.


Title: Mejavel-Ni (Fly for Me)  
  
Author: TCR  
  
Email: tcrites1@hotmail.com  
  
Status: Complete  
  
Category: Science Fiction Romance, A/A  
  
Pairings: Daniel/Other  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Season: 4 / 5  
  
Sequel: None  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Content Warnings: mild language  
  
Summary: On the planet Jao-Toam, Daniel finds someone to love. But both the Sg-1 team and the Toam people are unaware of the price the Toam have paid for resistance to the Goa'uld.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. ~ All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. ~  
  
Author's Notes: ~ Thanks to: Rebecca, D.R., Shau're, Jamieson, Randi and SgWrite members. Sg1's been an experience. Parting is such sweet sorrow ~  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Mejavel-Ni  
  
(Fly for Me)  
  
by TCR  
  
  
  
~ THE BRIEFING ~  
  
  
  
"Benoit?" Daniel clipped his stride to match the women's pace.  
  
Janet pointed her pen in the air. "Translating."  
  
"Already?...again?... on P7T-415?" he said, slowing down. Perfume lingered in the hallway, mixed with the dust.  
  
"He has a four day start this time. I think they like him." She moved aside to allow a cart by.  
  
"Tolerate is more like it." The corridor narrowed and the ladies moved ahead, picking up speed while Daniel fell behind. When it came to women, nice guys knew: majority ruled. He stepped up faster. "I thought he was going to wait for us."  
  
Sam greeted a passing colleague. "Not possible. He was requested. What's the matter, feeling a little left out?"  
  
"No, I just thought...Who requested him?"  
  
"Arlas," said Sam. "She's not going anywhere, Daniel. We still have a lot of work to do."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
From the center of the conference room table, a sculpture of crimson wings rose and curved outward from a middle stem, flowing in one direction. That it did not topple over was a mystery.  
  
"This is her," Daniel began. "I mean her--s. It's a gift to our world from P7T...uh, Jao-Toam. It represents the power of flight and---"  
  
The wings caught Jack's eye as he joined the group. "Whoa. What?"  
  
"---the beauty of flight. It's from Arlas, that is, her people. But she designed and sculpted it, from resources found on their land." The striated surface reminded Daniel of wind-blown sandstone. "She finished it."  
  
"Haven't had the pleasure." Jack studied the piece by angling his view, choosing a seat across from Daniel.  
  
"I'll be glad to introduce you. Their culture has revered its artists for generations."  
  
"How about soldiers?"  
  
"Dr. Benoit will have to answer that for you."  
  
The general requested a favor. "Doctor, will you be good enough to move this aside a moment so we can see?"  
  
Daniel grabbed the wings' pedestal. "Sorry, I...no problem." He carried it to a side table. It was lighter than it appeared.  
  
The general allowed his subordinates to be seated. "Let's get started, everyone. Dr. Frasier?"  
  
"Thank you, sir." Janet thumbed through a report. "Dr. Benoit's translation of the Jao-Toam language has been progressing steadily, however, we'd like to take it a bit further if they'll allow."  
  
"And that entails?" asked the general.  
  
"Dr. Jackson's return to aid in the translations."  
  
"Yes sir, I believe between the two of us, Dr. Benoit and I, we can make a plea for our case. We'd like to ask Arlas for permission to research their archives. Take a look at their history." *Flames of fire*, thought Daniel, staring at the wings. *Will she still be the same?*  
  
"Daniel's made a friend," said Jack.  
  
"I really don't know her too well. Only there a brief time."  
  
Jack swiveled his chair sideways. "But you left an impression." He re- examined the sculpture. "A big one."  
  
"General," Sam focused in. "There's been a new development from Dr. Benoit. Based on his observations, we believe these people have, over centuries, intentionally introduced a poison into their systems."  
  
Daniel scribbled a note. "Mithridatism."  
  
"My--thrill--date what?" asked Jack.  
  
"From Mithridates the Sixth Eupator, about 130--60 B.C., King of Pontus. It's Turkey now. He was also a royal student of empiricism who developed the concept of inducing a tolerance to poisons through the administration of increased doses."  
  
"The Jao-Toam have taken this a step further," said Sam. "Not only are they tolerant to this poison, they've apparently managed to use it to prevent the Goa'uld from securing them as hosts. From what we've gathered, the poison is extracted from seeds. Small doses are administered from childhood. It's possible that even at birth, through the mother's immune system, they've already developed a tolerance. Doses are likely increased as they mature."  
  
Jack turned to her. "So the Goa'uld can't get rid of it?"  
  
"Apparently. The Toam oral history--unverified of course--relates at least two attempts by invaders, presumably the Goa'uld, to take them as hosts, only to be repelled by the poison. Finally, we assume they simply gave up."  
  
Daniel printed _AR_ in bold, black letters. "It's an unnatural repellant. We'd also like a sample of the seeds."  
  
"You mean a natural repellant," said the general."Well, in terms of the poison's origin, which is found in nature, it can be considered natural. But it's certainly unnatural for humans to deliberately mithridate themselves, whatever the reason." The _L_ was next; Daniel resisted writing it.  
  
Jack agreed. "Interesting defense. Has Dr. Benoit noticed anything odd showing up on the Toam? Scales, webbed feet, horns?"  
  
"Nothing we would consider out of the ordinary." Without looking down, Daniel scribbled the next letter. "They're...pensive, devoted to creative endeavors."  
  
"Are they willing to hand over a sample?" said Jack.  
  
Janet tossed the report into a folder. "We're not certain. At this point, they haven't exactly refused Dr. Benoit's requests, but they haven't come up with the seeds either."  
  
"Arlas has her own requirement," added Sam. "She's invited Daniel for a visit."  
  
Daniel realized he'd written Arlas' whole name and underlined it. "When did this happen?"  
  
Sam peeked over his shoulder. "Just in time it seems."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ WELCOME ~  
  
  
  
The zenith of a dome could be seen several kilometers from the stargate and beyond it, mountains rose prominently and tapered north and south, disappearing into Jao-Toam's peach and gray sky. Daniel blocked out the banter of his companions, keeping an eye out for the archipelago of boulders Ben had identified as the signal to hold south of the hill, lest they find themselves lost. Not dangerous, he'd said, definitely the long route. Daniel identified the boulders by their semi-linear formation and varied sizes, persevering above the snow layer.  
  
Approaching the Toam community, he noted that the dome sported paintings of wings which circumnavigated the exterior. Upon entering the quadrant within the encircling walls of the building, he found a friend.  
  
Dr. Benjamin Benoit greeted them at the doors. " *Zhafemed.* "  
  
"Don't tell me. 'Welcome'?" Daniel had left Ben to struggle with the daunting array of Toam synonyms and figures of speech.  
  
"You're a genius. Right on the money, doctor. Nice to see you again. How are you all?"  
  
Teal'c stepped into the hallway and made room for the rest. "They are cold."  
  
"The average temperature here is about 2 degrees C. Keep your gloves snug or you might be turn blue."  
  
"We thought there'd be a welcoming committee--something."  
  
"Arlas is busy, Dr. Jackson. She's quite the V.I.P. A 'Sefab pe-vaniff tepiv mejaljah', or..."  
  
"Wait. 'Searcher of...ghost's height'?"  
  
"Again. Genius. No, it's 'Reader of the Soul-Flight'. Least that's what I think. Your replacement resigned the first day. I've had zero help."  
  
"You seem to be doing fine," said Daniel. *Ben's improved since I left.* Their first conversations with Arlas--similar to a word game--had been awkward and supplemented with an informal sign language.  
  
Sam browsed toward the center of the building. "Flying theme's everywhere." She looked up. "Lovely birds--a little single--minded."  
  
Recalling the Toam's passion, Daniel warned, "Don't let them hear you say that."  
  
"Apparently the ginveed is the sole creature on this planet capable of ingesting the saynon tree seeds--without taking a permanent dive," said Ben. "So it's legendary. Stronger than the enemy because it can handle the poison. You'll find it all over the place. Their interiors reflect that."  
  
They stepped over red and white marbled floors, the stones blending into leading edges, etched with rows of feathers.  
  
"This," said Ben. "By the way, they call me 'Bai' here--kind of nice, isn't it?--this is the *Jemaj.* It's a government building. Loosely, it means 'uncommon'. Great budget."  
  
Jack wandered about the room. "Compact...*and* impressive."  
  
On the underside of the dome, Toam artisans had recreated the saynon: From a thick twisted trunk, molded branches spread upward, flowing down as bas- relief on the wall, nearly to the floor. The golden leaves, no larger than a shirt button, grew larger on each branch until they quadrupled their size. Sprinkled over these were smaller leaves that resembled peas in clusters. An oculus, off-center and visible through the largest limbs, admitted light.  
  
"They may have been going for that," said Ben. "See the ginveed." He pointed halfway up. It was small like a perching fowl with a raptor's hooked beak, yellowish crown, white and tan face about large black eyes, its tail feathers marked with tabs. "And those things that look like red teardrops, those are the seeds."  
  
"What's a real one look like?" asked Jack.  
  
"The bird or the tree?"  
  
"Bird."  
  
"Don't know. They're not big on sharing. Even the Jemaj is normally off limits. Words I can get out of 'em, tours--no. Although now that Daniel's here."  
  
"Yes, I am. Maybe you can check on..."  
  
Footsteps echoed; friends faded into the background. Daniel slipped into a different place, riveted to a face found once, remembered a thousand times. She was not at all what he imagined for himself, but she was all he might ever need.  
  
" *Zhafemed* , Danel." Arlas adjusted her overcoat, moving her left hand diagonally from shoulder to waist. " *Boe bemin zapev depin.* "  
  
Ben sprang into action with the meaning: "Welcome, and to all your company."  
  
" *Zha bes himay zapev* ," she said. A man stood with her; he bowed and made the same diagonal sweep.  
  
"We are glad to have kept you waiting. Kirib, my assistant," said Ben, then to the visitors: "The Toam believe the longer they keep someone waiting, the longer the guest has to enjoy their surroundings before entering into the stressful task of business."  
  
Jack fidgeted. "Good and well, Benoit. Do they have anywhere less drafty?"  
  
Their breath swirling in the air, Teal'c and Sam mumbled simple greetings which Ben politely enhanced on their behalf.  
  
Daniel imagined a world in upheaval, imagined transforming from the inside out. He watched the accents of color in Arlas' eyes, bold as those in an Egyptian painting, change by the second like the pyramids throughout the day: charcoal at sunrise, yellow at midday, silver in the moonlight. *What does she see? The stranger who promised to return.*  
  
Ben bowed. "They'd like us to join them for their fine dining."  
  
"Fine dining?" asked Jack. "Is it warm there?"  
  
Arlas and Kirib led the way down a hall.  
  
"Really want me to ask them, colonel?" said Ben.  
  
"If the answer is yes, yes."  
  
"Haven't found a warm place here yet."  
  
But invisible as stars in daylight, Daniel's heart brightened.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ REUNION ~  
  
  
  
The team seated themselves at a long table composed of smaller ones placed together, as though routinely repositioned, and covered with tablecloths depicting the ginveed and saynon in embroidered embellishment.  
  
Daniel struggled through the meal. The thick texture of a bumpy fruit annoyed his teeth as did the rubbery noodles which Ben had assured him were safe, not animal life. For all the opulence of Jao-Toam art, their food was timid by comparison. As he drank, he glimpsed Arlas through the bottom of the tumbler and when she gazed back, he didn't turn away.  
  
Outside, Toam snow, basking in the palest shades of an earth-like sunset, draped a fresh, thin cover. A day on P7T-415 roughly equaled 42 earth days. Presently, they were bathed in a perpetual, distant light, their sun virtually motionless.  
  
In the same building, after dining, the team was introduced to a group of crafters who applied tiles to an antechamber floor. While staring at the pied tiles, Sam was interrupted by Kirib's invitation to tour other areas. "Coming Daniel?" she said.  
  
He hesitated, gazing across the chamber. Arlas had taken Ben aside and was murmuring in his ear.  
  
"Daniel, do you mind?" asked Ben, approaching him. "You must be special. No one ever offered to guide me around."  
  
This was his delight. " *Kol,* " said Daniel, joining Arlas as the rest of their party strolled away. They tapped with the backs of their hands and he noticed that around her neck she wore a watch strung on braided fabric. It was out of place with their surroundings. "Ben, don't you have some idioms to sort?"  
  
" *Nekol.* Arlas says she can get to know you better through me, least for now. Don't mess up, they're rich on etiquette."  
  
" *Kol*, Bai, I know. Tell her: 'This is a rare thing'."  
  
" *Ejet jit sibisjen.* "  
  
"...sibisjen," Daniel repeated.  
  
"Why do rare things always seem like gifts?" she said, Ben translating.  
  
Daniel wished he could say it himself: "Because they bring back hope."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ THE GODDESS ~  
  
  
  
Ben accompanied his companions to the veranda, sniffling, interpreting for Arlas in a haphazard way.  
  
Arlas didn't shiver. She asked first where Daniel had been.  
  
"Too far away," he said. "Hope you don't mind. I've brought you a gift."  
  
Dabbing his nose with a cuff, Ben warned: "It'd better be handmade."  
  
Daniel clenched his molars, hoping Arlas wouldn't realize they were bickering. "It is. I wouldn't say anymore about it."  
  
"Trying to help--don't be grumpy. Although, compared to you, I have spent a significant amount of time here."  
  
"Wipe your nose."  
  
"Never get used to this weather. Excuse me."  
  
From his pack, Daniel withdrew a framed illustration and shared it with Arlas. "I did this when I was a kid, in high school. Everything was new to me then. Still finding out what I really wanted in life."  
  
" *Zhabev jul?* "  
  
Daniel understood the simple question. "You have such admiration for things that fly here, I thought you might like it. There was an old king, well, he was young but it was a long time ago in our history--King Tutankhamun--he wore this around his neck. It depicts the goddess---"  
  
"Goad--ess?"  
  
"Yes, goddess, a female god, or, a woman of great beauty." Daniel scanned her face, expecting indifference. "Uh, the goddess Nekhbet. The wings are made of 250 separate segments, and, each feather is inlaid, colored glass. I've always been impressed by the crafter's details. Especially since drawing all those feathers made my hand cramp. Funny I remember that." He flexed his fingers as if it were yesterday. "It's one of those undertakings where, right in the middle, you regret you ever started. Until you're done."  
  
Arlas remained intent on his words; he was encouraged. "And here..." He pointed to the talons. "...is the symbol for infinity, forever." He glanced toward the entryway, trying not to stare at her. "I'm sorry. Guess I shouldn't be talking so much until we can understand each other a little better. Bai should be back by now."  
  
" *Ife jit.* "  
  
Ben reappeared, pulling on a wool cap. "What'd I miss?"  
  
"A long explanation," said Daniel. "And the sight of a goddess." He held up the drawing.  
  
"Tut's mummy jewelry, huh? I've seen it once...twice?" Ben spoke to Arlas in well--practiced Toam: "Daniel made this when we were very young. If he is giving it to you, it signifies he thinks greatly of you. He has set you under glass."  
  
Arlas said, "*Bett ni ijnen. Danel, kopej-ni zhebem sif habel.* "  
  
Her smile made Daniel uneasy. "What did you tell her?"  
  
"That you're as stupid as you are vain."  
  
"You underestimate how fast I'm catching on. Something about childhood and tomorrow?"  
  
"She's inviting you for a walk in their gardens."  
  
"Gardens, here?"  
  
"Oh, yes, you've not seen the best yet, sir, it may be icy outdoors, but indoors they're cultivating flora."  
  
"I'll look forward to it." Daniel watched her leave, disappointed she didn't visit with him longer. "She wasn't too impressed."  
  
"So that's your intention in showing her a vulture from a dead man? Could've fooled me. I'm sure she'll make you wait and wait and..."  
  
"Just show me what you've gathered. I've got some studying to do. By the way, how do they tell when it's tomorrow?"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ SLEEPLESS IN JAO-TOAM ~  
  
  
  
In his lodging apart from the rest--which Ben had not hesitated to point out--Daniel reviewed phonemes, morphemes and free variations, repeating them aloud with Ben's recorded texts. When he could no longer hold his eyes open, he crawled into bed rather like one would a boat. Unable to see over the sides, he was impressed by the sensation of being in a pit--a warm, cozy one. However, the thought of burial also crossed his mind. Perhaps the constant crossing of arms across the chest or the heavy clothing provided a clue to the Toam that their visitors would require additional coverings.  
  
  
  
A dream drifted into the pit.  
  
*Across a deep canyon, Arlas stands dressed in an ombre gown, signaling for Daniel to approach. A suspension bridge materializes--sturdy, safe. He walks forward, hears a voice. Sam waves, saying goodbye. Halfway across, the planks of the bridge begin to rot and crack, disintegrating under his feet. He falls through, catches himself by one hand. The bridge collapses, plunging him into the freezing water. Struggling to shore, exhausted, he rolls over, the cliff wall stretched over him. Arlas is gone, the rock face sparkling with the iridescence of peacock ore, brilliant in sunlight. Above, Sam shakes her head.*  
  
  
  
"Daniel Jackson."  
  
The voice jolted him from the dream. Teal'c towered over the bed like a Giant Sequoia Redwood, larger than life, older than everyone. "Huh?"  
  
"Daniel Jackson, O'Neill wishes you in his presence immediately. He desires you know you have a New York Minute to respond."  
  
Daniel grumbled and sat up. "Um...Jack, oh--eight...what time is it?"  
  
"In regards to New York?"  
  
"New York? No Teal'c, no, it's an expression. Our time, earth time."  
  
"Approximately oh--eight--four--seven."  
  
"I don't believe this." Daniel threw one leg over the side, knee dangling between the carved wings, and struggled to get out.  
  
Teal'c heeded the wall politely, then offered his assistance.  
  
"No, I can do it." Daniel gripped the sides. "How'd you manage to get out...of...this..."  
  
"The beds are confining. I remained on the floor."  
  
"Sometimes I wish I were as durable as you. Agh, can't get..."  
  
He fell back into the bed. "I give up."  
  
Offering a hand, Teal'c helped him climb out.  
  
"Thanks." Daniel massaged the back of his knee. "The Toam must be gymnasts in their spare time. Where's Jack now?"  
  
"He waits for you in the area of dining."  
  
"Have you seen Arlas?"  
  
"She is with Major Carter."  
  
"And they are?"  
  
"In the gardens. You have enjoyed the company of Arlas."  
  
"Is that a question?...no...I mean yes, I have. Even with Benoit around."  
  
"What quality do you most admire?"  
  
"Admire? Well, she's a woman _of_ quality, certainly...and I enjoy her company...and...hard to say right now. Tell Jack I'll be right there. Please."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Crystals of ice glittered in the low sun, polishing the arches and vaults of the central garden. Here the Toam had shaped tall windows that paralleled the line of the arches, leaving less than half to solid wall, allowing in light. Tracery on the windows outlined the pattern of filigree-- filled wings and within, a real saynon grew in life as in art, reaching to the ceiling and cascading to the sides. Beside it, Sam and Arlas talked through Ben who owed his sleepy face to Daniel's endless questions regarding the Toam language.  
  
A hedge of crystalline rock stood between Sam and the saynon. "Remarkable shades," she said. "Marvelous anything so large can grow here. Must've taken at least a couple of our centuries to reach this height. Do they exist in the wild?"  
  
Arlas maintained eye contact with both Sam and Ben alternately. "Those exist, at varying stages. Most are quite young."  
  
"Where are the seeds processed? I mean, who---"  
  
"Once the seeds are prepared, they become *jidal*." Arlas included a comment for Ben.  
  
"She'd like to know how you slept," he said.  
  
"Fine. We were admiring the rooms. Your people are incredibly talented. And patient."  
  
" *Qubej?* " asked Arlas.  
  
Ben explained patience, patiently. " *Jidal* is a tea--that's how they take the seed extract."  
  
"Common as caffeine in coffee, I'll bet," said Sam. "There's a vase I was admiring...with moldings on the inside. How's it done?"  
  
"We take the living matter and add it to another. From there, it grows as a new creation. Unique to the artist."  
  
"Living matter? Sounds like you're inventing species."  
  
"Genetic alteration?" said Ben.  
  
Sam nodded. "Recombinant techniques, possibly. Arlas, the saynon in the other building. Is it... living?"  
  
"It was created by Kirib's grandmother. It grows as an expression of the future, of herself."  
  
"It's still growing?"  
  
"I am not certain of the particular process; the element applied enhanced its beauty. It will touch the floor soon."  
  
"Lovely. Explains the vase, and the tiles, and a lot of other things. This in your reports, Ben?"  
  
" *Zhabev jul, Bai?* " interrupted Arlas.  
  
He assured her earth people were inherently curious. "I did, in passing. Just thought they were damned dedicated."  
  
"Yeah, but to what?"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Daniel hastened through the circular passageway rehearsing phrases, regretting that he'd not had the time to study the Toam culture more thoroughly. The "in" box on his desk at the SGC had piled up with Ben's reports and data disks while he'd been away; he'd never had a chance to review them. For now, he'd have to depend on Bai, the pet linguist of the Toam, for final clarifications.  
  
Tying a bootlace after a slight trip, he glanced at the elaborate décor: frescoes covered the walls and ceilings; raised murals recessed into the walls, a luminescence highlighting the inner ledges. Continuing, he rounded an extended curve, stopping at a central side--chamber. There on the wall, showcased like the main attraction, was his gift to Arlas, mounted in a round, over--sized shadow box. He entered, studied it briefly, then carried on.  
  
"Jack, sorry I'm late."  
  
"So am I. What's the matter? Lost your watch, radio, or your hearing?"  
  
"Up kind of late, actually...didn't hear...perusing Ben's notes. I feel slightly more prepared now. Their language displays numerous variant base forms. Very difficult to get a hold on. Seems to have been---"  
  
  
  
"Benoit seems to have managed."  
  
"Ben concentrates on descriptive linguistics. He's spent a good deal of time amongst..."  
  
  
  
"Today you both talk to them."  
  
  
  
"Today?"  
  
"Get your mind back on your work."  
  
"I was up almost all night. We've only _been_ here a night. Our time."  
  
  
  
"Then you were late."  
  
  
  
"_Because_ of my work. If that isn't enough..."  
  
  
  
"What I'm saying is, from now on, remember what we're here for. I don't want to hang around here any longer than we absolutely have to. Too dammed cold."  
  
  
  
"But I don't---"  
  
  
  
"Teal'c, get Carter, let's get breakfast." He turned to Daniel. "I know that look, that looky--glass look. I need you to concentrate."  
  
  
  
"Looky glass?" He considered the advice. "There's no reason to worry."  
  
  
  
"Will you be joining us?" asked Teal'c.  
  
  
  
"No thank you," replied Daniel, watching the colonel walk out of the quad. "I have some concentrating to do."  
  
  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ GENETIC RECIPE ~  
  
  
  
Visiting the domed *Jemaj*, Sam came face to trunk with the saynon sculpture.  
  
"Didn't know you were interested in art, major." The high ceiling intensified Jack's voice.  
  
"Good morning, sir. Teal'c." The saynon continued to hold her interest. "I am. Too busy to pursue it seriously."  
  
Jack asked, "Anything special?"  
  
"Arlas told me this isn't an ordinary sculpture. It's alive."  
  
"Pretty dead to me."  
  
"To me as well," said Teal'c.  
  
"It's not. Apparently the Toam have been using transgenic methods in their art--as their art--for decades." Sam crouched down to the tiles. "A lot of this work is in all likelihood produced by incorporating heterologous genes into another living thing."  
  
Jack bent to one knee, squinting. "Sounds like they've taken the biotech thing a little beyond us."  
  
"Or as far. The jury's still out on that earthside."  
  
"So you believe these tiles are someone's genetic recipe?"  
  
They both stood up although Teal'c froze in place on his knee.  
  
"Exactly. Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" asked Sam.  
  
"Major?" said Jack.  
  
From the floor, Teal'c's eyes arced across the room. "I do not see fowl nor their offspring in this...I see, an expression."  
  
"What I mean is, did they develop this type of art after they found out about the seed's anti--oa'uld properties, or before?" asked Sam.  
  
"Doesn't matter, looks like their artists are pushing the envelope." Jack wiggled his fingers in front of Teal'c's eyes. "You can get up now."  
  
"Understandable," said Sam. "Their landscape's monotonous. Ornate interiors are a nice distraction."  
  
Jack studied the saynon's trunk, stepping back quickly. "I think this thing moved."  
  
"As long as it doesn't talk."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ THE GARDEN ~  
  
  
  
In silence, Kirib escorted Daniel to the garden, tracing their feet over a light layer of snow, faces toward the weak light on the horizon. The doctor repeatedly smoothed a cowlick at the top of his head, but it sprang back again and again like a cat's whisker. Surrendering, he pulled out his cap. Field conditions never bothered him, however, today it mattered; a closer shave would have been the cat's meow to the whisker.  
  
"Are you the official greeter?" said Daniel. "You always seem to be hanging around doorways."  
  
Ben stomped his feet on the entry. "I've been appointed your assistant, it seems."  
  
"Because I asked you a few questions? Now who's being grumpy."  
  
"A few? I was beginning to feel like your informant."  
  
Kirib turned to go. " *Cez,* " he said.  
  
" *Cez zhaf,* " replied both linguists.  
  
"I see you're getting the hang of it," said Ben. "Will you need me?"  
  
Daniel melted. "I can't seem to think straight. Yes, I need you."  
  
"Vulture man needs me."  
  
"I wish you wouldn't call me that. Where's he going?" asked Daniel. "Doesn't he ever smile?"  
  
"No, not lately, he's been rather moo--dee. He's Arlas' right--hand man, you know, probably off to talk about you behind your back. Notice your little surprise?"  
  
"Yeah. Don't they ever sleep?"  
  
"Since I've been here, they seem to sleep a lot less than I do. Aren't nearly as cold either."  
  
They walked inside. "I'm ready, I can do it," Daniel said. *I studied all night. I'm good at communicating, really.* "No...yes...stay. No...go, go. I'll be fine. Maybe if..." *Why is this so difficult?*  
  
"She's coming over, Daniel."  
  
*It was so simple before.* "Go ahead and go. I'll be all right."  
  
"As you wish, sir, you're on your own--make use of those degrees. _Nota bene_, they do things slowly here. Veeeery slowly."  
  
"I know, I know. I'll...Arlas." *Auburn hair, green obsidian eyes.*  
  
Ben approached her. "Daniel feels he can speak with you on his own. I'm going to try and catch up on my sleep." Then he whispered in her ear: " *Ijneri ifeb usav bett ijneri zhapset.* "  
  
" *Kol, Bai, ni zapev cefim,* " she said, extending the hand greeting.  
  
Ben copied the gesture and started out.  
  
Daniel stopped him. "What does she believe?"  
  
"Everything I tell her," Ben said. "Don't trust me?"  
  
"It's all that whispering."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Alone for the first time, Daniel tapped hands with Arlas. He conversed fluently in Toam, the hesitation in his speech yielding to necessity.  
  
"I am sorry I took so long. We are having a little trouble adjusting to the time difference here." *The seeds, ask about the saynon's seeds she doesn't look like she's been up all night.*  
  
A vine hung over them. "Good to be with you," she said.  
  
They strolled through a pergola, its curved roof meeting at a point. Daniel pushed the bare vines aside, feeling like he'd built the passageway himself, as if he'd passed through it before. "I saw the drawing. I am honored. It is not required. Although it has never been presented in such an outstanding manner."  
  
"You have mastered Toam."  
  
"I am struggling. Your inflections can be difficult." Daniel noted that she dropped her head slightly at the end of each sentence, emphasizing the words. "Speak to me as you have been, I will do well."  
  
"Bai has told me you know multiple languages. That on your planet, you fly with the clouds while others observe."  
  
Daniel translated the expression as _esteemed by others_. "Well...that is...sort of right ...sort of wrong, too. I do not consider myself highly regarded. If I had not lost my parents when I was young, my life may have taken a different direction. I may have rejected what they wanted-to follow in their footsteps. Here I fly."  
  
"You have no readers?"  
  
"Not near me. The people I am with, they are my family, my readers."  
  
"My mother and father returned when I was young."  
  
Daniel knew she meant they'd died. "I bear condolence," he said. *She's only eleven in Toam years the seeds are important.* The spray of vines ended and they came upon the crystalline hedge, English slipping out: "Incredible."  
  
"I desired to share this with you when you first selected the stone," she said, leading him around to a gate. "I am content you came so we may pattern together."  
  
"S--Select the stone?" Daniel searched for analogies. "Meaning, I believe, when we first met?" The second part was tougher to interpret; he left it alone, flustered by the possibilities.  
  
" *Kol,* " she said.  
  
They settled on the ground, lush with cover, under the saynon, a few leaves sprinkled around them, nary a seed. *I wish she'd sit closer.*  
  
"I am sorry I could not visit earlier," said Daniel. "There were other commitments which took much more time than I expected. I was required to join my readers. Bai has done a good work." Daniel motioned to the watch around her neck, cradling it in his hand. "Bai gave you this?"  
  
She affirmed with her regal nod.  
  
"Arlas--Bai asked you about the seeds? He explained to you why they are important to my people?"  
  
" *Kol,* " she replied. "It was decided to travel with no shoes."  
  
"Ah, I get it...carefully." Daniel shifted his weight. "Would you be willing to give me a sample?" *I hope I'm not imposing on you.*  
  
Arlas rose, her garments rustling like taffeta, and jerked down a branch, breaking off two clumps of the red seeds. The sagging limb snapped back, showered them with the pea--like clusters, a few dropping upon Daniel's cap. He bowed his head, brushed the debris off the brim, feeling Arlas' hem- -soft as a silkworm's back--sweep against his cheekbone. He thought to reach for her hand, but when he did, she removed his cap and stepped back, shook it, setting the seed--clumps inside. She handed it to him and spoke in his language:  
  
"My gift to you."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
"Got 'em." Daniel joined his comrades in the dining area, coveting the layout of comestibles. "Haven't eaten today."  
  
Jack stood. "Nice work. All bets are off. Give, Daniel. Major, get them earthside."  
  
Daniel removed one bulky glove with his front teeth, reached into his cap, gathering up the handful. "That's all of them. If we need more, I'm sure I can get them."  
  
Sam protested. "Wait. They may be poisonous."  
  
"I forgot. I touched them already." Daniel threw them back into the cap, rubbing the hand on his chest.  
  
Jack shook his head. "Ben, you've never had a problem, right?"  
  
"No, then again I haven't handled them." He took a last drink, mumbling, "I'm beginning to feel like a second--class citizen around here."  
  
A few of the seeds had missed their target; Sam gathered them up with a handkerchief. "Yes, sir. On my way." Four Toam entered as she exited, forming a line side by side.  
  
"It's early yet," said Jack. "Check out the archives." He spoke softly: "Karob went for it. I didn't expect the man to be so amenable."  
  
"Colonel," corrected Ben, "It's *Ki--reeb*, long 'e' on the second---"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"---syllable."  
  
"Daniel Jackson's presence seems to have altered the opinion of the Toam rulers," said Teal'c, preparing to leave. "Why do they wait?"  
  
"Excuse me," said Ben. "The first few meals are on them, we're expected to help now." He picked up a tray and handed it to one of the Toam.  
  
Daniel watched the trays leave one by one. "Okay, we'll get started right...after ...din..."  
  
Teal'c carried off the last of two heavy platters.  
  
"Sorry vult...Dan...you missed it. Not the best they've ever offered, hearty though," said Ben.  
  
"You've been here too long, Benoit." Jack replaced his gloves. "Beggars can't be choosers. Get to it."  
  
Ben hurried Daniel out while the last Toam disappeared. "Come with me. Warmies should be tucked tight--it's a fair trek, southeast of the gate."  
  
"But...I..." Daniel minded the empty table. "Save any for me?"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ ARCHIVES ~  
  
  
  
While the others rested, the linguists plied their trade in the archives, their skin flushed from the jaunt across the landscape. Daniel surmised that the winding trail had been designed to show off the Toam art. It featured bulky abstract sculptures like giant egg cases, most over two meters tall. Ben had christened it *The Road of First Attempts*, or RFA.  
  
Inside, Daniel zigzagged around tall columns which divided the four-leafed clover shaped chambers, two columns at each vertex. From the stylistic progressions, he reasoned they represented four periods of the Jao-Toam artistic culture. In the center, a spiraling ramp with footholds led to the second floor, a dais surrounding the entrance and exit openings. On one side, large round windows with curving sills helped add light to the chambers as did skylights aligned on both the first floor ceiling and the roof.  
  
"These verbal forms are driving me crazy." Ben pitched a document back on the floor. "Much easier spoken."  
  
"Well, until we can get together a Jao-Toam for Slow People, we're on our own." Daniel struggled to keep his attention on the job. "By the way, what does 'kebuv zhajni' refer to?"  
  
"Pattern together? I haven't a solid reference...yet," said Ben. "Don't expect it has much to do with sewing. Least not exclusively."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"If you have serious intentions, be prepared for the *Baquep*. "  
  
"Approval?"  
  
"Of the readers. Your family must consent."  
  
"And if they don't?"  
  
"Call a cab."  
  
Daniel said, "Meter's running." He was transfixed by the impression of soft fabric on his skin. "Wonder what she's doing."  
  
"She usually spends a good seventy-five percent of her waking time on art...stuff. Producing it, perfecting it. Displays. Discussions. Trading it for important things like food."  
  
"What about making a living?"  
  
"They have people doing that, too. Grow about fifty percent of their own food. I haven't been out of the central complex much. Too cold, always...brisk." Ben laid down on the floor, leaning his head on the torus of the column. "I miss the beach."  
  
"We all live with it."  
  
"I know. Odd thing is, once I'm home awhile, I'm ready to leave again."  
  
"There's no one that needs you there."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Sorry," said Daniel. "Didn't come out right."  
  
"You're right. Very right. I'm free to come and go as I please. Nobody worries too much. Not sure I'd know how to handle it if it were the case."  
  
"It can be...satisfying." Daniel examined the frescoed walls. "The world needs you, my friend."  
  
"Make that universe. Great explorers are we." Ben reviewed a bundle of notes, holding them over his head. "Floor's warm. Can't complain. Anything banobajoh over there?"  
  
The frescoes depicted a row of women artisans at work. *They have her face.* "No, nothing," said Daniel. "Potters, painters, standing on ceremony."  
  
Ben rambled. "Do you remember Gislaine, the gal from Edmundston? She was killed in Peru. Truck went off the road--if you can call it a road--into a ravine."  
  
"Hadn't heard."  
  
"Last year. She and I dated awhile. Some people make the world easier to live in."  
  
The faces changed from Arlas to Sha're. "Yes."  
  
"I've always wondered who we're actually sorry for...the one who's gone, or ourselves, because we feel alone, you know? Has a selfish edge to it. The dreaded fear looming before us. Life in the Grand Gallery."  
  
"Ben, I've been up a long, long time and ate dinner from--several--bags. Can we save the philosophy for later? A mongoose has more finesse."  
  
"I'll let you off this once. Detouring the big questions isn't the scientific way."  
  
"Keeping your mouth shut until you have something to say _is_. Any new insights in those texts?"  
  
"Language transformations aren't my forte." Ben yawned in seven flavors. "They're as creative with their language as they are with their art."  
  
"I can take it from here. I'll concentrate on the most recent derivations and examine the syntactical..." Papers crinkled; Daniel skirted around the columns. "Ben?"  
  
The mongoose slept.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Jack catapulted out of bed, drawing his sidearm. "Who are you?"  
  
The woman swept three fingers from neck to shoulder. " *Nejof, nejof,* " she said.  
  
"Don't ever do that! You'll get yourself killed."  
  
" *Nejof!* " Her voice peaked.  
  
Jack lowered the gun. "I don't know what you're saying."  
  
" *Nejof mafab.* " The woman marched around the room, her tone grown harsher.  
  
"I don't understand you." Jack sneaked toward the entrance. "Teal'c!" he called down the hallway. "Look, Miss, or Ms., or whichever, if there's anything you need, please feel free to take it. As long as it isn't me."  
  
Teal'c arrived as the woman wrestled with a heavy carpet which was caught on one corner by the bed. "O'Neill?"  
  
"What took you so long?"  
  
"I did not hesitate to respond." Teal'c poised his weapon. "Who is this woman?"  
  
"Don't know. Stand down. There's no danger."  
  
"Then why did you summon me?"  
  
"She...I...what time is it?"  
  
"It is morning. Oh--five--hundred."  
  
The woman shoved the bed with her knees and grasped the carpet in both hands, folding it over.  
  
"What's she doing?" said Jack.  
  
Teal'c observed. "Shall I assist her?"  
  
"No, absolutely not. Get Benoit."  
  
As Teal'c left, the woman jammed a chisel into a trapdoor in the floor. "*Juljit tuv,* " she said, standing to yell at Jack, her nose inches from his. " *Ifmeq-ni.* "  
  
"I told you." He slowed his words. "I don't understand."  
  
The woman returned to the door, banging it with the tool.  
  
"Jeez, what's that all about?"  
  
With a crack, the door snapped loose. The woman lugged it aside.  
  
Jack peered in. "Can't see a thing."  
  
" *Zapev navtu mif.* " She poked Jack's chest with the chisel.  
  
"Watch it there. All right, all right." Jack threw up his arms in mock surrender.  
  
"Zeff!" Ben Benoit entered, addressing the woman: " *Zhiz bes zapev imi? Ejet jit haveet.* " She replied with a string of rapid sentences.  
  
Jack stepped out of harm's way. "What'd you tell her?"  
  
"That you're a guest here. This is her room. She wants you out. Says she can't get any work done with you here."  
  
Zeff disappeared through the trapdoor.  
  
"Where'd she...?" said Jack.  
  
Ben leaned into the basement. "She stores things down there. Didn't give up this room voluntarily."  
  
"Great. You'll have to arrange another one."  
  
"First thing."  
  
A clatter came from the basement. Soon Zeff's head popped up like a jack-- in--the--box. " *Zhavem zapev efem?* "  
  
Ben said, "We've been invited."  
  
  
  
They descended one by one into the darkness, finding their way by the faint light tiptoeing in from above. Under their feet, steps of stone, then a doorway at the end of light's reach, about one meter forward. Zeff opened the door with a huff and allowed them in.  
  
First darkness, a hand tossing powder in the air, seconded by a waxing light. Zeff aimed for the walls, sprinkled it back and forth, grabbing fistfuls from a bowl. The men waited while their eyes adjusted to the dimness, Zeff splashing pinch after pinch upon the surface with the heavy substance, the light cascading from top to bottom, coalescing, increasing in strength.  
  
She pushed the bowl into Jack's belly. " *Usaz jul.* "  
  
"What's she saying?" he said. "Wait, I can guess." And he took it, taking a handful and tossing it on a section of the wall that was still dark. "Wish Carter were here."  
  
Teal'c moved past Jack. "There must be an organism present."  
  
"Or chemical, could be a chemical reaction. Like their lamps." Ben ungloved, inspecting the wall. "A little warm. Dazzling--Christmas in New York."  
  
With every handful, the walls brightened, pulsating. After the bowl was emptied, Jack admired the results while Zeff launched into a lecture.  
  
"She says she was the first to develop the technique," said Ben. "She is the first--finder of countless marvelous methods. Tiny creatures, unseen to the eye, once inhabited these walls. She added a plant, one that can be seen in the night phase, to the creatures in their vital state, and so here we have it: light without light, seeing within night, flying with convenience."  
  
"Flying with convenience?" asked Jack.  
  
"Closest I can get on the spur."  
  
Jack held up the bowl. "What's this for?" He sniffed at a safe distance.  
  
" *Guppay, guppay,* " said Zeff, snatching it from him.  
  
"Guppy?"  
  
"No, she's saying 'food'."  
  
"I'm not going to ask what they eat," said Jack.  
  
"Don't."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ BANOBAJOH ~  
  
  
  
Daniel awakened Ben after an hour or so and they'd dragged back without a word. Unable to sleep, he'd repaired to the garden where the last of a crew of three tended the saynon tree and gathered up seeds. He casually ambled about, inhaling the intoxicating splendor of newborn buds, lingering in front of the tree. The enclosure did not completely discourage the frigid drafts and they burrowed under his collar, conspiring to make him uncomfortable. He crossed his arms and sat on the hedge, sighing to the top of the saynon--the joy of solitude overshadowed by a nascent loneliness.  
  
Someone placed a covering over his shoulders. "Our world is not good to you," she said, running her fingers once over his upper arm.  
  
Surprised, Daniel smiled. "You're speaking English again."  
  
"Bai teaches ni." Arlas' presence dissipated Daniel's sigh like the sun on morning fog.  
  
"This..." he said, pulling the coat off his back, "Isn't necessary. I'm fine." But she wouldn't permit it and put it back on his shoulders. When in Toam..., thought Daniel. "Thank you. I was hoping you'd be here. Don't know how much longer we'll be staying."  
  
"Do not go Danel."  
  
"I don't know what will happen. It's been a long time since..."  
  
"Walk."  
  
"Where're we going?"  
  
" *Jijou tepiv mejaljah.* "  
  
"I'd like to see that."  
  
  
  
They wandered off the trail, Daniel trusting her experience, wanting to hold her all the while, guilty about the coat. She didn't seem to mind.  
  
The land spoke as they passed, or was it God, accompanying him wherever he traveled in the universe? Did God have any part in this emotion, any part in restoring the sense that this was right? It was the same sense he'd experienced when he and Arlas met. *This is not to be feared, not a betrayal of love.* Under her genius, the crimson sculpture had formed; she took the clay, pounded it, shaped it. He had been mesmerized while watching her, immersed in the work she loved. They shared that beginning.  
  
Sparse trees, gold and sunstone orange, dotted the way over substantial hills with packed snow, their figures casting tall shadows. The hike warmed him; he removed the coat, tossing it over his shoulder. From a hill, he spotted a clearing on a plateau, the ground exposed in spots. He pulled off a glove, took Arlas' hand, and she helped him climb the last steep meters. Her grip was strong. When they reached the aerie summit, neither he nor she let go.  
  
"Here," he said, "I'll be fine now," returning her coat. The chill refreshed him.  
  
Arlas snatched it, broke their clasp and jogged away. Daniel worried he'd broken a custom, committed a grievous error despite Ben's advice on social convention, potentially flawed. He replaced the glove and went after her.  
  
"Danel, follow," she called, proceeding across the plateau to its edge.  
  
Curious, he approached where the ridge dropped. "Banobajoh," he uttered, hushed. And above the ravine, a small bird, pink in plumage, tipped in black speckles, flew off a ledge. It caught a current, oblivious to the audience.  
  
Arlas' fixed her concern on the ginveed, the wind lifting it higher. " *Mejavel-ni*, " she said. "Fly for me."  
  
"We've found the flight of the soul?"  
  
"*Kol.*"  
  
" *Banobajoh!* " He heard her laugh and the ginveed ascended, Daniel's spirits rising with it.  
  
"At times you must pause your own breathing before you can feel the breath of another."  
  
"I'm holding it now," he replied, then shouted at the ginveed: "Fly for me as well!" He heard her laugh again. "Don't tell me we've just patterned together? *Kebuv zhajni?* " He gestured, assembling a puzzle midair.  
  
" *Nekol,* " she said, stopping him. She held his hands in her own, throwing the coat, little more than a shirt, to the ground. Putting her fingertips on his chest, she closed her eyes and rotated about him, hands sliding over lightly as though he might break.  
  
He tried to face her; she stood firm, thumbs on his shoulder blades. "What..." he said, tempted to make light of it. But he waited, deciding she was meditating. *On me no less.* The ginveed soared over them, screeching, unbothered.  
  
Soon she finished and put on her coat, selecting a dry spot to sit as Daniel settled in beside her. She asked what he missed most about his home.  
  
He said when he was away, part of him got used to missing a myriad of things. Other things he missed no matter where he was.  
  
She asked him what he loved most about his world.  
  
He said what he loved most was the abundance, the tenacity of life, how no two people were alike, yet once in a great while, you met someone like yourself.  
  
She asked him what path he desired to take from this moment.  
  
He said from this moment he hoped to take the path that would ease the feeling of separateness. The feeling that he had been given merely snippets of belonging and was thereafter expected to go on as if nothing remarkable had ever happened, as if he were the same person who could function in the same way, as if he were never in love before, or would ever be again.  
  
She asked him if he would stay.  
  
He said it was possible.  
  
She asked him if his readers would approve.  
  
"Probably one won't," he replied. "I won't hold my breath."  
  
He asked her if she would allow him to stay.  
  
"It may be," she said, standing. "We will fly *zhajoh zhajoh-upe.* "  
  
"I believe," he said. "Wing to wing."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
At the stargate, Sam was late. Jack jumped to circulate his blood, twice in circles, while Daniel's mind zeroed-in on a morning encounter, less than two hours long.  
  
"What's the hold--up?" asked Jack. "Coffee break?"  
  
The doctor was mute.  
  
"P7T-415 to Daniel." No reply. Using the radio, Jack's voice erupted on the receiving end. "Daniel!"  
  
He didn't flinch. "Did you say something?"  
  
"I don't believe it. It's not what we're here for."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't tell me you're that clueless. Arlas, it's Arlas."  
  
"We've been spending time together, if that's what you're getting at."  
  
"Aren't you going a little fast?"  
  
"No, I wouldn't, but...we have a lot in common."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like...an appreciation for art...languages, cultures and..."  
  
"An appreciation for art, languages, cultures and the fact you think she's beautiful."  
  
"Jack, that's none of your business."  
  
"Whatever happens under my command, or potentially can happen under my command, is my business."  
  
Part of Daniel realized he was right. The gate activated; Daniel welcomed the interruption.  
  
"Be careful," said Jack. "Don't do anything rash, you might regret it."  
  
Sam appeared through the ring. "Wouldn't kill you two to smile once in awhile...sir."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Back in the marginal comfort of Jack's second bedroom, the team held an impromptu meeting, reclining on the Toam's beautiful, ill--fitting furniture.  
  
Sam began her report as Ben arrived. "Janet and I ran preliminary tests, and it seems promising. We may have an effective deterrent against the Goa'uld, though I'm not sure how it would be implemented."  
  
The back of the settee dug into Daniel's spine. "And their toxicity?"  
  
"Actually, touching the seeds on the outside appears to be perfectly harmless, but like an acorn, ingesting them would likely kill you--or at the very least make you very ill," said Sam. "Our second theory is that the seed extract seems to provide a greater tolerance to the cold."  
  
"Good to know. What's the next step?" asked Jack.  
  
"Further investigation. Where they harvest, in the wild or from orchards, processing, how it's administered, proper dosage, side effects, complications. A sample from the wild trees would also be helpful for comparison."  
  
"I know who might be able to help," said Jack. "Daniel, make an appointment with Zeff."  
  
Daniel was miffed that he hadn't kept up with matters. "Who's Zeff?"  
  
"Talk to Benoit."  
  
Before the meeting was dismissed, Sam warned: "Colonel, we'll be coming closer to entering the twilight and night phases soon. Instances of inclement weather will increase. Temperature's going to start dropping. There's the possibility of a storms."  
  
"Apprise me."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I'll bunk it in my brain." Jack picked up rucksack. "In the meantime Teal'c, let's you and me get out into that fresh air."  
  
Daniel was concerned. "Shouldn't we get permission before you go wandering around?"  
  
"Sure, work on that while we're out."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
"La. La. La. Happy trails." Jack deadpanned, following the Road of First Attempts, stepping off into shallow snow. "Let's chuck this exhibit. I've had enough."  
  
"The Toam are proud of their accomplishments," said Teal'c.  
  
"Yeah, but other things, like nature, should be left alone. There's also a case to be said for a straight line between two points."  
  
"The wild saynon would likely reside in the outer limits of the township, away from the roads."  
  
"Right. Due north now, a right turn later, left turn at the big rock of Gibraltar..."  
  
"You are aware of a saynon's location, O'Neill?"  
  
"Nope, making conversation. Hopefully, we won't have to go too..."  
  
"What is it you see?"  
  
"I...don't. Watch your step."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ HISTORY LESSON ~  
  
  
  
"What've you got, Daniel?" asked Sam.  
  
"Well, after a tedious perusal of their archives...which, I'd like to say, could use a good librarian...I can safely say we've got nothing, much. The records are fuzzy on how the jidal intake originated. I did find reference to a seed harvest, in past times, usually in late summer."  
  
"Which is very short on this planet."  
  
"Yes, which is very short...here." For an instant, Daniel's eyes cruised to the corner of the sky. "The only other notable mention is what Ben's already told us. That the *Hapeb*, which we are assuming are the Goa'uld, came here at the 'time of the readers', and attempted to assimilate them at least twice, and were foiled, and...you know the rest of the story."  
  
"Any clue as to why they didn't destroy the Toam?"  
  
"Nothing there either. Perchance, they were booked full for destroying that day?"  
  
"How about Arlas?"  
  
"Arlas--she's basically told me likewise, though at times, I imagine, she doesn't really care to talk about it."  
  
"She's withholding information?"  
  
"No, not at all...we...Do you like her?"  
  
"Of course. She's intelligent, talented. I haven't really had a chance to talk to her," said Sam. "Her wing sculpture's been doing odd things. It's like the saynon in the Jemaj. Growing and, well, moving."  
  
"Moving?"  
  
"Incrementally. It's been engineered, too, somewhere along the way."  
  
"Bet Hammond's had a field day with it."  
  
"He had it removed to the lab."  
  
"Isn't that a bit paranoid?"  
  
"He says plants grow, art should be still."  
  
Ben came out to fetch them. "She's ready. She's been feeding the walls."  
  
"The ones that glow," said Daniel. "Sounds like fun."  
  
Ben smiled. "You'll both like her. I promise."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Zeff's belongings littered the area that had once been Jack's guestroom, the bed filled with study pieces, materials and tools. Ben opened the trap door, said good-bye and retreated to the archives. He'd gratefully divided his responsibilities with Daniel who hoped to spend as much time as possible with Arlas.  
  
With a gentlemanly air, Daniel gestured for Sam to enter first. "After you."  
  
Sam said, "You're the interpreter."  
  
"You're the lady."  
  
"I'm a doctor."  
  
"The lady doctor."  
  
"And a major," added Daniel.  
  
Sam didn't miss a beat: "Watch you head."  
  
Carefully descending, she found the door open and they let themselves in. "Oh my," she said. "Bioluminous."  
  
Daniel closed the door behind them. "Banobajoh."  
  
An opposing entrance opened whereupon Zeff appeared carrying a vial, bidding them through to the inner room with a flick of her wrist. The mix of artistic supplies and scientific paraphernalia struck Daniel strangely: paint brushes aside flattened plates with gooey substances growing within; colorful bottled liquids beside a burner, its flame constant; and plants growing in variously--sized containers--an experiment in progress.  
  
Zeff poured the contents of the vial into a basin brimming with green paste. "*Zhafemed,* " she said, adding another ingredient before sitting down.  
  
Daniel introduced himself as Sam searched for a place to sit. "Mind standing?" he asked Sam.  
  
"Not if you don't."  
  
The first question was simple. From the answers, they surmised that Zeff had used algae from one of their lakes to concoct the organism growing on the walls. It used the food--bacteria Zeff grew herself--to produce the light, which continued for hours at a time. The algae survived apart from water because it had bonded to the original organism on the cave walls, creating an original, thriving life form.  
  
The second question was complicated by Zeff's speculative answers regarding Toam history, Daniel doing his best to make the translations clear. When did the Toam begin to use the seeds, and why?  
  
Passed down in Toam folklore, the belief that the saynon seeds had originally been used as food was prevalent, prepared by crushing and boiling at high temperatures to remove the toxin. As time progressed, the belief that the seeds possessed properties which could enhance creative abilities grew, as did the notion that it was the toxic components specifically which where most important to the process. Thereafter, the extraction of the toxin began, taken in very small doses, called *jidal.*  
  
About this time, the *Hapeb*, with their eyes of falseness, invaded the Toam territories, taking countless unfortunates as hosts. But within two generations, a woman named Baram had discovered that by increasing the amount of seed toxin, the Hapeb could be discouraged. They began to give small doses to their offspring, increased as they matured.  
  
Over the years, the Hapeb found the Toam made them ill, moving on to other worlds. However, the Toam continued their intake of toxin, fearful of a Hapeb re-invasion. Coupled with this was the persistent conviction that jidal would raise one to immeasurable levels of expressive artistry, virtually into a spiritual realm, and so the practice persisted.  
  
Daniel complimented Zeff on her sharp memory.  
  
"We'll never be certain which came first," said Sam.  
  
"Which came first?"  
  
"The chicken or---"  
  
"The egg," finished Daniel. "Civilizations have cloudy pasts sometimes-- anything from the origins of religious rituals to why an object is named a certain way." Daniel inspected Zeff's paraphernalia. "My other thought is, they don't seem...well..."  
  
"Advanced enough?" finished Sam. "Well, they could be moving genes using a poration process. And certain plant and animal cells are large--easier to inject."  
  
"I'll take your word for it." Daniel blushed when Zeff asked a question. " *Zhaf--ul lopazh,* " he replied.  
  
"What's she saying?" asked Sam.  
  
"Nothing important. 'Bout time we touched bases with Jack, don't you think?"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Teal'c stepped over a knoll of soil and ice. "There is smoke in the distance."  
  
"Got it. Worth investigating, don't you think?"  
  
"It may prove a chasing of the wild goose."  
  
"Mostly true. Pretty much what this whole mission has been so far. Why spoil a perfect record?"  
  
"You are not confident of the outcome?"  
  
"We're wasting our time. Except for Daniel." He started toward the thin lines of smoke.  
  
"Daniel Jackson is enjoying the company of Arlas."  
  
"He's getting way ahead of himself if you ask me."  
  
"Who has questioned you?"  
  
"Not the point here, Teal'c. I mean, look at these people, making everyone wait all the time while they're out finger painting. Slapping clay. Using what amounts to drugs for the sake of what? A long-gone threat? What kind of wife does that make?"  
  
"Perhaps Daniel Jackson does not have such concerns or has not considered the consequences."  
  
"Darn right he hasn't." Jack tackled a steep slope; hiking was difficult. "Last thing I need is Daniel gone and Benoit nagging me in his place."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ PLATEAU ~  
  
  
  
Leaving Sam to plod through his research, aided by Ben, Daniel escaped from civilization. He spied plumes of smoke in the distance, paid them no heed, heading in the opposite direction. Uncertain one moment, sanguine the next, he preferred to avoid Arlas, believing it wiser to ponder alone, clear his head, draw in the cold, explore the planet which she knew as home.  
  
Tracks from his previous hike could be seen here and there, an ordinary sight telling an extraordinary tale. The days had been quiet except for the breezes. He'd seen her each day after breakfast; her body and attitude, face and demeanor fused together in his mind, inseparable. He liked that she wasn't like Sha're. He neither wanted to replace his first wife nor could he; she was unique. And though she was gone, the weight of guilt pressed upon him: *Did I truly love you like I said I did, Sha're?*  
  
Jack was right; he shouldn't act rashly. It was better to take it slow, the Toam way, sometimes the Daniel way. And that wasn't difficult, at least when Arlas wasn't nearby.  
  
He reached the base of the plateau and began the climb, counting on his experience and the passing of time. The answer was up there, somewhere, all he had to do was go up, get it. His hand flicked away a spotted insect and it skipped across to a clump of weeds poking through a crack. The spots faded, its deep blue color changing to blue--green, then green, finally as yellow--gold as the vegetation. Daniel observed its transformation--same creature, adapted to suit its environment, increasing the odds for survival.  
  
Reaching the top, he stretched, zipped his jacket to the collar, made sure the cuffs covered the tops of his gloves. How a cup of coffee would suffice right now, comforting, smooth. If he tarried here on Jao-Toam, he'd need to order a larger supply. Too hard to live without, even harder than the planet's night phase, according to Ben. In the sky, the shrill screech of the ginveed alerted him and he traced its flight overhead toward the ravine.  
  
Why not go for it? What am I afraid of? I'm already smitten, happy when I'm with her. It's good again, isn't it? Life's too short and all that.  
  
The ginveed circled while the same gusts which sustained it in the sky streaked across his temples. Like a parade drum pounding in his belly, the unknown unveiled itself:  
  
*I might lose it all again.*  
  
No, take the chance, let God be your judge Daniel. This is a peaceful place, the bad guys haven't been here for ages. No war, nothing at all like Abydos. That difference makes it good. Take the risk, or wonder forever what might have been.  
  
*I loved you, Sha're. And only I will know when it's time to move on, when I'm free to do so.*  
  
At the ridge, he stole a hair's breath cubed over the side and looked down. The narrow valley hid pockets of snow and ice amongst boulders which were little hills in themselves. He pictured himself turning; she'd be there, laughing, touching his back, full of questions, overpowering him. He raised his face to the sky, embracing it with everything that made him Daniel, everything noble he aspired to be. And the ginveed, by its communion with all around it, granted the answer.  
  
He smiled broadly, front teeth bared, and called to the bird, hands at the sides of his mouth to amplify the message, "I'll do my own flying today, thank you very much!"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
The acclivity of the hill increased, growing uneven, permanent ice layered with the rocks. Jack and Teal'c traveled over softening soil, a carpet of gray building up under their feet. Maintaining an angled ascent, their discussion went on.  
  
"Has Dr. Benoit offended you?" asked Teal'c.  
  
Jack cut a terse reply. "Nobody's that nice. He's phony."  
  
"And this suspected deception is what disturbs you?"  
  
"Gut feeling. Comes with experience." Jack's boots were muddied to the laces. "Getting a little spongy," he said. "Not nice."  
  
"We may be able to attempt an alternate route."  
  
"We'll be all right. Almost there."  
  
"The smoke is thickening."  
  
Bracing their feet, they used their hands to steady themselves at the top. They stared beyond to a lower hill, watching an acquaintance among a group of workers who sprayed a liquid over the soil and set it afire, creating a field of burning patches.  
  
"Karob," said Jack. "What's he up to?"  
  
A young man carrying a staff emerged from a hidden valley and joined Kirib.  
  
Teal'c offered a reason. "Kirib may be in charge of clearing the land for planting."  
  
"Per--haps. Have you seen any farms around here?" A small portion of the topsoil gave way under his boot and Jack repositioned his legs. "It's a little weird--way out here in the boonies. Not much to clear out. They don't seem too concerned about trees and brush, such as they are. Or the rocks."  
  
"They are unaware of our presence."  
  
"No. Karob knows--now," said Jack. "This stuff, this gray, disgusting stuff, that's what they're after."  
  
Tumbling stones alerted the workers and they turned toward the overhanging hilltop.  
  
"Oh--oh. Maybe we should introduce our..." Jack instantly shut up; the hill rumbled, the soil beneath him crumbling. He jumped up, attempted to stand, but gravity controlled, feet sliding through the bog--like surface, throwing him backwards, arms flailing for a lifeline. Teal'c, who had been closer to the edge, disappeared over the side, stones and ice--chunks swallowing them both.  
  
Briefly airborne, they dropped forcefully on the hillside and resumed their downward slide, gaining momentum. They tumbled alongside body--hammering stones, rolled until they hit bottom--a mound piled at the foot of the hill. Buried to the waist, Jack covered his head as debris showered down, pummeling his forearms. He spit out tiny pieces of rock, protected his eyes. When the motion settled, he hauled himself up, kicking loose ice and jagged stones away, and checked for Teal'c.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ DANIEL'S HIGH ~  
  
  
  
*Why do the rare things always seem like gifts? Because they bring back hope.*  
  
So there is fairness in the universe. Fairness for mankind, for losers, for me. For people who've loved and lost, who thought it would never happen for them--not more than once in a lifetime.  
  
It's warmer now, isn't it? These hills are flatter, the ground less riddled with ankle--twisting holes. The stones step aside while I pass. I control all matter! I shall cut the cold like toast and toss away the slices. I can make birds spell out my name above, if there were any, for all to see. I don't need food. I'm not even human anymore; I'm unchained from ordinary people. I'm taller, powerful. I can coax wind into shadow, shadow into sky. I even see farther--is that the gate? No, a trick of light, my eyes are sharp, equally sensitive. I don't need glasses. I don't need to be alone. Arlas. She's lovely no matter what the setting. And bright. Insightful. She's brought back hope; she must say yes.  
  
Daniel bounded into the vicinity of the Jemaj, set on waiting no longer. Where was Arlas today? Should he go to the archive first? No, one place at a time. He stood in the center of the quadrant, mind spirited, electric.  
  
"Daniel!"  
  
He spun a half--circle to share the good news: "I have..." But seeing Sam, wind reverted to wind, shadow to shadow. "What's wrong?"  
  
"There's been a landslide. The colonel and Teal'c were caught in it. Colonel's okay. They had to dig Teal'c out. Could be serious. We're on stand--by."  
  
Daniel's chains to ordinary people reconnected. "Where are they?"  
  
"About two kliks out, the Toam are helping them back. Prepare for departure, we may be leaving in a hurry. O'Neill's upset."  
  
"Leave?" he said, glancing at his watch. He contemplated the decision to stay--no matter how badly Jack and Teal'c might be hurt? No, it wouldn't be. If they needed him, he would go. If not...I'm not going to worry about it, I'm not going to...  
  
"I need to talk to Arlas. Have you seen her?"  
  
"She was in the garden," said Sam. "Dan---"  
  
"I'll be back," he yelled, dashing away. "Trust me!"  
  
"I do."  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ PROPOSAL ~  
  
  
  
She was neither in the garden, nor the Jemaj, nor had she been seen recently by anyone Daniel encountered. And returning from the archives, a solicitous Ben had confirmed by radio that he had not seen her lately.  
  
Daniel knocked on Zeff's trapdoor. It was dark; no one answered, especially the walls. He rushed toward his chamber to gather his belongings, planning to resume the search. On the way there, he found her busy behind a freestanding divider in the sideroom where his drawing had been hung.  
  
"Almost missed you," he said, out of breath. "Didn't see you."  
  
"Danel?"  
  
"I know, I know, there's not much time. You haven't heard? 'Course not, you've been here. Jack and Teal'c have been in an accident. Landslide. I may have to leave, right away."  
  
"I will see." She headed for the egress.  
  
"Arlas!" he called. "They're on their way back. We can handle it."  
  
" *Nekol* Danel, we must go."  
  
He trailed her to the area outside the Jemaj, blocking the way before she could enter the quadrant. "Arlas, please. I want you to know, I won't go unless it's absolutely necessary. I intend to stay. You can return with me, someday, to earth. We can live there, together, marry. It doesn't matter where."  
  
She was silent.  
  
What have I done? Daniel asked. I'm making an idiot of myself. It's not the Toam way. It's only my way. My asinine earthman way. Too much too soon, too fast.  
  
"You have placed me under glass, Danel?"  
  
"Kol, a treasure, a rare thing," he said. " *Zapev ni-mapej,* I love you." A breeze flowed past his ears, humming.  
  
"I would be with you, Danel," she said. "I have placed you under glass."  
  
Voices floated in from the distance; Daniel hurried. He removed his glove, touching his own face, then hers. His fingertips cooled on her skin.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ HITTING THE FAN ~  
  
  
  
"Daniel!" The whole of Jack was either wet with snow or dipped in ice--mud. He limped toward the quadrant, nose bleeding. "I need you here now!"  
  
Running, Daniel and Arlas met them at the perimeter. Teal'c walked with the help of a Toam, drooping forward, left arm immobilized in a makeshift sling.  
  
"You okay?" asked Daniel. "Don't look very good."  
  
Teal'c straightened, expressed no pain. "We were extremely fortunate to avoid critical injury."  
  
Jack nodded sharply. "It's his shoulder. Sam, get Teal'c back. Take Benoit with you." He signaled toward the Toam, sleeve held against his nostrils. "They'll help. They'd better."  
  
"And you? You all right?" asked Sam.  
  
"I look worse than I am. I'll be along."  
  
Arlas released Daniel's hand, their fingers unlacing one by one. "I will be with you," she assured him, joining the others.  
  
As Kirib left, Jack caught up, seized him by the elbow. "You," he said. "Why the hell didn't you warn us?"  
  
" *Zhabev jul?* " said Kirib, bewildered.  
  
Daniel quickly intervened, asking Kirib to wait a moment. "Jack," he asked. "What's the matter?"  
  
"He..." Jack pointed out the young man with the staff. "He was tailing us. Why didn't you warn us about that place?" Then he ordered Daniel: "Ask them."  
  
"You sure you're okay? We can take care of this later you really should---"  
  
"Ask them."  
  
"Jack, if I only knew a little more. I can't just---"  
  
"What *you--can't--just* ? Your job is to translate, so translate!"  
  
Daniel nipped the urge to respond in kind. "All right, I'll do that. But first tell me what happened."  
  
"They knew we were there, they didn't warn us. We were nearly killed."  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
"On the hilltop."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And the dammed thing collapsed!"  
  
"Calm down. I'm sure we can get---"  
  
"They were burning...something. Smelled awful. Ask them what they were doing."  
  
"All right, I see, burning something. What then?"  
  
"Are you going to ask them or not?" said Jack.  
  
"I will. But I need to know---"  
  
Jack interrupted again. "This one comes and talks to Karob, Ki--reeb, and tells this guy--obviously--that we're watching."  
  
"What, you were hiding?"  
  
"No! Don't be stupid, Daniel. We weren't hiding. We were on our way down-- then the whole thing went."  
  
"I told you we should ask permission."  
  
"I don't need to get into that with you right now. I just want to know what they're trying to hide, so damn it, ask them!"  
  
Daniel tried to mask his embarrassment, jamming fists into his pockets. "Fine," he said, explaining the situation to Kirib. "They were burning refuse."  
  
Jack exploded. "Refuse? That stuff is refuse? Ah, come on Daniel, that can't be right."  
  
"He says they didn't know about the land's instability."  
  
Stepping away, Jack pressed his palms against his eyes, dragging them to the sides of his head. "Can't be right."  
  
Daniel tapped the colonel's arm. "We really should get you looked at. I'll get you to the gate." *Settle this like civilized...*  
  
With a small bounce on his soles, Jack shouted at Kirib: "That's no way to treat guests!" and he strutted away, pressing a cuff to his lips.  
  
Daniel apologized, excusing himself to Kirib and the young man. Chasing Jack into the Jemaj, he wondered why it was he who was always called upon to settle differences, why people never stood still long enough to do it.  
  
Crossing under the dome, Jack walked briskly despite the scrape on his leg. "Get packed, we're moving out," he said.  
  
"I'm not going."  
  
"You're what?"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
"Teal'c seems all right. He'll heal fast," said Daniel. "You won't be needing me either...I can tell. Arlas and I are...staying together. I can't go back now." *Or I may not be allowed to come back. Especially with Jack's mood. Not right away.*  
  
"You mean won't go back. Get your gear packed."  
  
"I can't go Jack, I'm marrying Arlas, if she'll have me. Bring her home one day."  
  
"Got it all figured out, huh?" asked Jack. "Why can't you do things right?"  
  
The challenge startled Daniel; it took him a second to gather his thoughts.  
  
"Re--Resign? I don't want to resign. If necessary, I'll take care of it when the time comes." He knew he wasn't getting the point across. "You've left me behind before."  
  
"That was different. You'd both been through a lot by then."  
  
*Let him have it, tell him what you really think.* "So you're basing your decision on whether I've *suffered* enough with Arlas?"  
  
Both voices expanded thereafter, bouncing off the walls like racket balls smacking one ear then the other.  
  
"I'm basing it on the fact that we've been here less time than it takes milk to rot and in that whole time you've had your head in the clouds!"  
  
"That's somewhat of an exaggeration," said Daniel. "I've thought this through."  
  
"You have? Daniel, these people are fooling with God--knows--what, destroying their land, making monsters, little green men...I don't know! It's falling apart. Who knows what else they've got going we know nothing about."  
  
"Give them a chance."  
  
"I gave them a chance, and they haven't exactly been forthright. In fact, they've outright lied. Even if I believed they didn't know about the land, I sure as hell wouldn't believe that story about 'refuse'." Jack slapped dirt off an arm and tiny pebbles unstuck, sprinkling on the floor. He started out. "Get your gear."  
  
"I'll help you to the gate, but I'm not going."  
  
With his back to Daniel, Jack said stiffly, "They're predicting a storm, most likely within the next few days."  
  
"Didn't know."  
  
"Of course you didn't know. Where the hell were you this time?" Jack spoke over his shoulder.  
  
*I should tell him what I really think.*  
  
"If we don't leave now, then we may be stuck here longer than either I or General Hammond wants us to be stuck here. If I leave you, you will be here a very, very long time."  
  
"Which would be fine with me."  
  
"If I leave you here, and you change your mind about this, you may still have to stay here a very, very long time."  
  
"Understood."  
  
Jack headed toward the rooms. "Stay then. I'm not your mother."  
  
"I didn't know my mother very long, however, I'm pretty sure she knew how to talk things out when necessary."  
  
"We've talked Daniel."  
  
*Tell him.* "You've made me look like a fool, Jack."  
  
The colonel spun around. "I've made you---?"  
  
"How can you go around making accusations about matters you know nothing about, with so little real evidence to go on? Do you even know what you're accusing them of? Do you know what kind of position that puts me in now? We could've explained it calmly and rationally, but...What's their crime anyway? That they have a brighter creative streak than we do? That they make people wait? Serving tasteless food?"  
  
A Toam couple passed by in an antechamber; Daniel gave them a half--hearted greeting. In the same instance, he spied an eavesdropper, ducking behind the wall. When he turned back, the colonel paced with his arms crossed.  
  
Hesitating, Jack lowered his eyes. "It took us awhile to find Teal'c."  
  
"He's lucky. I'm relieved it wasn't bad."  
  
"It was bad. They helped dig him out. He's stronger than both of us put together."  
  
"Give them a chance."  
  
Jack leaned on the saynon's trunk as if restoring his balance. "I want the truth, Daniel," he said. "I want you to know it, too." He inhaled, letting it out long. "Marry the truth, not lies. You don't build a real life around lies."  
  
Daniel squeezed the back of his neck, feeling like he'd been dragged to the bottom of the ocean and brought up wrapped in seaweed. The great manufactured saynon, symbol of survival, and the tranquil ginveed, symbol of triumph, ruled over like protectors of good, defenders from evil. Jack's opinion changed nothing; it only made things difficult.  
  
"I'll send Sam back. Ben," said Jack. "Work on it."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Jack glanced at his clothes. "I gotta' get cleaned up. Get a steak."  
  
"I'll go with---"  
  
"No escort. I'll be fine."  
  
"They wouldn't have understood you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you'd asked them...what was going on," said Daniel.  
  
"I'm having a little trouble with that myself."  
  
"Steak's on me."  
  
"Hell yes."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
After Jack's departure, Daniel took the eavesdropper by surprise. "Zeff, what are you doing here?" he asked in his best Toam.  
  
"Our world is not good to your readers," she said.  
  
"Jack is...He's in charge. He would have preferred I go home also."  
  
"This is his anger?"  
  
"The land--falling angered him. He says Kirib should have reminded them to walk with no shoes. I ask about the burning."  
  
"In that place, in various places, the land suffers."  
  
"Why?"  
  
" *Kevol.* "  
  
And Zeff explained how *kevol* immersed itself in the soil, growing like a fungus under and over the soil, emerging from the residue of discarded materials. Efforts to control it by burning the most potent deposits slowed its spread, but did not deter it. Kirib had silenced the problem, not realizing it had progressed to such a state.  
  
"Arlas did not tell you, Danel," said Zeff. "For fear you may return to your world where life flows over, where life clings to living, where you find someone like yourself."  
  
"She need not worry," he said, admiring Zeff's honesty. "I've already found her."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ INVITATION ~  
  
  
  
Daniel absentmindedly scratched his hand. When it didn't subside, he peeled off the glove, surprised to find his palm and fingers were red, bumpy, forming thumbtack--sized blisters. To cool it, he ran it over a patch of snow and inspected the horizon for telltale clouds, testing the air for swelling breezes. The land was content, no colder.  
  
The stargate opened and Sam emerged with Ben. "Daniel," she said. "Congratulations."  
  
"Zhafemed" he replied, using the Toam greeting. "Thank you."  
  
Sam gazed at his hand when he swept it by. "Lose your glove?"  
  
He related how it recently came to pass.  
  
"Maybe Janet should---"  
  
"It'll clear up. Teal'c is well I hear."  
  
"Fit and healthy. He and Jack have a few things to take care of."  
  
"The storm?"  
  
"Latest telemetry shows varying readings. We may have more time than we estimated."  
  
"Good news," said Daniel. "I have a favor to ask you both."  
  
Ben pretended, retreating through the gate. "See you later."  
  
"Arlas and I would like to honor their tradition of *Baquep*. The readers, my readers, need to choose from a display of artifacts which---"  
  
"I know...represent different aspects of good will. Wishes if you prefer," finished Ben. "That the reader would like bestowed."  
  
Daniel was irritated by his friend's arrogance. "---signify approval."  
  
"I have to come up with a gift?" Sam was second as they trekked single-- file.  
  
"Actually no, it isn't a wedding. More like...an engagement party," said Daniel. "All you do is chose from the artifacts."  
  
Ben led the line. "I'll tell you what they represent beforehand. Nothing to it."  
  
"You've been to one before?" asked Sam.  
  
"No, I pick these things up easily."  
  
Daniel was annoyed. "Don't necessarily have to include you, Ben."  
  
Ben stopped, companions passing by. "What'd I say wrong?"  
  
"We'll have it as soon as Jack and Teal'c get back."  
  
"Jack, too?" said Sam. "Oh boy."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ DAY THOUGHTS ~  
  
  
  
Daniel sank into bed. He'd stacked extra blankets and a sleeping bag to pad the bottom, making it shallower. A little like a tub when I sit up, he reasoned, an earth tub. Toam baths were like pools with stairs leading one deeper than the beds, adorned on every centimeter, level with the floor.  
  
There would be dancing at the Baquep; the team had not enjoyed that on Jao- Toam. Arlas and her readers would share their home with the visitors although the actual ceremony was performed outdoors. He'd briefed Jack via long distance regarding Zeff's explanation for the landslide, leaving details for a future face-to-face discussion.  
  
*My hand isn't better.* The inflammation had advanced up the wrist and there was burning and pain in the fingers, more worrisome blistering. Topical medicine had no effect. He covered the hand with a gauze bandage, fought not to scratch, attempting to read awhile: additional notes from Ben for their joint working draft of a Toam dictionary.  
  
The pages blurred and his mind dwelt on Arlas, eyes hot, mouth dry. *Sleep, oh gentle sleep*, prodded Shakespeare and he slid down, the events of past days marching by like a desert caravan: flames of fire...zhafemed, Danel...reader of the soul-flight...ejet jit sibisjen...vulture-man...green obsidian...teardrop seed...Road of First Attempts...life in the Grand Gallery... banobajoh...pattern together...mejavel-ni...wing to wing...tossing toast... little green men...marry truth not lies...  
  
*I have placed you under glass.*  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Why won't they let me be? Can't they see I'm beat? Damn this itchy hand! I just got to sleep for heaven's sake. Open my eyes? Who's bugging me? Get rid of yourself. Don't care. Can't care. Groggy, lazy, tired. Let me be, I want to rest a heck of a whole lot longer. Who's that? Can't open. Stop shaking, bothering me, overusing my name. Why won't you leave me alone? I deserve a break. I've been the one who has to be the peacemaker, it's a tough job. What am I, a machine? Push the buttons, wind him up, watch Daniel go. I can't be perfect, let me be I...  
  
"What's wrong with you? Wake up!"  
  
*He's shouting now.* "Go away."  
  
"Did you have too much last night or what? I didn't even know they had booze."  
  
"Jack go away."  
  
"Not going away. Want to know why Daniel sleeping in like college freshman."  
  
"Everyone has booze."  
  
"Everyone had booze? That explains it."  
  
Opening his eyes, Daniel rolled to face Jack. "Who had booze?"  
  
"You said everyone had booze."  
  
Daniel wondered for a blink or two. "No. Everyone _has_ booze...every culture...or...substance which effects...forget it."  
  
"Well, there goes your excuse."  
  
"What excuse?"  
  
"For not hearing me."  
  
"I...I don't know what's going on, I..." He propped up on an elbow and checked the time. "Banobajoh, it's late. Why didn't anybody call me?"  
  
"Sam and Teal'c are out for wild seeds."  
  
"Without consulting me? After what happened?"  
  
"Hold it, hold it. Ben's got it all straightened out this time, he's with them. They have an escort. Arlas."  
  
"Thanks for that." Daniel scratched his forearm. "So I take it you haven't thrown in the towel on our mission?"  
  
"I've reconsidered, for the present." Jack went to the window and ran a knuckle over the pane, a sparkling wake remaining. "Sorry about the...calling you, you know."  
  
"It's okay...you were upset," said Daniel, dragging out of bed. "Yikes-- smarts."  
  
"Cut yourself?"  
  
"No. Touched something that didn't agree with me."  
  
"What, like poison ivy?"  
  
"Toam doesn't have poison---"  
  
"I know. Like poison ivy or oak or whatever."  
  
"Could be. But I've had my gloves on most of the time, except..."  
  
Jack said, "Let me see."  
  
Daniel unbound the bandage.  
  
"Needs to be taken care of." Jack pinched Daniel's sleeve to lift the arm higher. "Could be infected."  
  
"There's no cut," he reiterated, taking his hand away. "I'm not going back for a minor annoyance. The Baquep is tomorrow."  
  
"Heard the story. Bah-kep?"  
  
"Right. So--meant to tell you. Asked Sam and Teal'c to leave it under wraps."  
  
"The Approval thing."  
  
"Who..? Wait, he hasn't changed. Ben."  
  
"I accept," said Jack.  
  
"Good, then it's all set."  
  
"Except for your arm. Janet will need to see it."  
  
"Jack, I..."  
  
"Don't worry, she's on her way. Speed--up the work. If you're contagious, you can't go home."  
  
"Crossed my mind," said Daniel. "Stick around. I'll give you your Baquep lesson as soon as I...." He rubbed his eyes. "Clear my head."  
  
"Sure I'll enjoy it. Do I have to wear a tie to this thing?"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
A grove of untended saynon trees lay before Ben. "I do believe you've been searching in the wrong direction, major."  
  
"We also never got this far," said Sam.  
  
Teal'c's deductive reasoning was in full swing. "No doubt this was once the hidden source of the saynon seed."  
  
"Baram grew the seeds secretly in this valley," explained Arlas. "It took numberless years for the trees to produce a suitable amount."  
  
"Then these aren't really wild then," said Sam.  
  
"A suitable color, Samantha."  
  
"Ah no, not you clothes," Ben clarified. "Means you're right on target."  
  
"We'll need a sample from these, too." The major tugged off a cluster. "There must be trees that haven't been cultivated."  
  
"There is such a place," said Arlas. "It requires a sturdy frame on which to build."  
  
"Means 'not for wimps because it's not a Sunday picnic'."  
  
"I find your translation a tad unbelievable," said Sam. "But lead on."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ BAQUEP LESSONS ~  
  
  
  
Daniel sipped his juice. "Baquep lesson number one: Arrive late."  
  
"I can handle that," replied Jack. "About how many lessons are there?"  
  
"As many as we need to do it right."  
  
"Doesn't sound promising."  
  
"I appreciate this."  
  
"Don't mention it."  
  
"Lesson number two: Pick *one* artifact."  
  
"With you so far."  
  
"Lesson number...uh..." Daniel's train of thoughts derailed. "...three."  
  
"Lesson number three?"  
  
"Lesson three...guess it's like jet lag."  
  
"Lesson three is jet lag?"  
  
"No, living here--the light, all the time. "Um...can't shake this brain-- fog. My eyes keep closing against their will."  
  
"I'm not feeling it like you. What's Janet say?"  
  
"Apparently I've contacted, or contracted, something--like we figured--and I should try not to do it again."  
  
"Do what again?"  
  
"Whatever it is I did. Tests aren't in yet." He took another sip, rubbing on the surface of the bandage, now wrapped to his elbow. Jack's inquiry had reminded him how much it hurt and itched. "All right. Lesson number three is the Five--in--One." Daniel recited the list in one monotone take, slurring the occasional word: "The first artifact representing zeal or the desire to act, the second discipline or the forbearance to live in the present, third distance or the wisdom to see the outcome, fourth endurance or the fortitude to follow through, fifth the Soul--flight or the ability to rise beyond the obvious. Got that?"  
  
"Got what? Maybe you should write those out."  
  
"I'll get you a copy. Don't feel like repeating it."  
  
"By the way, what happens if someone doesn't approve?" asked Jack.  
  
"Hum...then when it's their turn to present an artifact, instead of handing it to  
  
me, they---"  
  
"Smash it?"  
  
"---hand it to the next reader."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"The next person either takes that artifact or exchanges it for another-- think that's right--then hands it to me."  
  
"So you could end up empty--handed?"  
  
"Yes. But the DIS--approval has its own set of rules." Daniel stretched his muscles and groaned, yawning.  
  
"Another ceremony?"  
  
"It's not performed very often."  
  
"Involve any smashing?"  
  
"If it did I wouldn't tell you."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Sam arrived at her Toam quarters. It had been invaded by Janet and various scientific equipment, the space shrunken by a third. "We've finally got a hold of these elusive little things." She placed them on a table.  
  
"No obvious external difference," said Janet. "It'll be interesting to see how these compare to the cultivated seeds."  
  
"Need my help?"  
  
"I'll be fine. Give yourself a pat on the back."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," said Sam, saluting unofficially. "I deserve it."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ CEREMONY ~  
  
  
  
The day of the Baquep found the Toam sun in the midst of its southern descent, never overhead, painting its peachiness on Arlas' home. Tall poles surrounded the courtyard, fiery flames sticking out at the crowns, reminiscent of the wing sculpture. They caught the rays and reflected them in washed crimson upon the ground, the snow bouncing it upwards, 180 degrees. Eleven statues of the ginveed were perched on stones that encircled the courtyard, demonstrating its progression from resting to flight, wings outspread on the eleventh.  
  
Teal'c waited with Daniel for the guests to arrive. "I see you have dressed for the occasion."  
  
"Everything's new," said Daniel, lamenting a headache which had crept up earlier. "Janet's orders. Old uniform could be contaminated."  
  
"Has Dr. Frasier made progress with your affliction?"  
  
"Not yet." Where's Arlas? he wondered. Switching gears, he beat his rebellious brain back to the matters at hand: In the middle of the courtyard, four of the five artifacts were displayed on pedestals. Zeal represented by a purple box, discipline by an incomplete mosaic of the saynon, distance by a scroll, endurance by an embroidered piece of fabric folded into a triangle.  
  
"Decided which one to pick yet?" he asked Teal'c.  
  
"I believe I have."  
  
"And?" prompted Daniel.  
  
"I prefer to reveal my choice at the ceremony."  
  
"If you prefer."  
  
"Ben Benoit has informed me the Toam consider the revelation of one's choice before the Baquep inappropriate."  
  
"Strike two for Ben. For a minute there, Teal'c, I thought you were getting mushy on me."  
  
"Mushy?"  
  
"Sentimental."  
  
"I was not."  
  
"No, guess not"  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Minutes later, Arlas appeared with a woman and man who brought the final choice, *tepiv mejaljah* , symbolized by a single ginveed feather embedded in a thick tile of glass. The man placed it on the fifth, empty pedestal.  
  
The ceremony omitted formal introductions and explanations, beginning with the Toam greeting. Daniel waited, apprehensive, juggling a bellyful of Mexican jumping beans.  
  
Standing with the others in a circle about the artifacts, Ben prepared to translate for the group. The man moved to the center and named the participants, recognizing Daniel as the consent--seeker.  
  
Situated across from her fiancé, Arlas called out the names in an orderly mixture of the two languages. "Reader major Sam, *zapev baques?* "  
  
"Say kol," advised Ben, and Sam affirmed.  
  
Arlas pointed to the display. " *Nibel dipaj.* "  
  
Whereupon Sam passed to the center and chose the purple box, presented it to Daniel, saying as he'd taught her, " *Cez zhaf.* "  
  
Daniel received it, seeing that where Sam's fingers had touched, the box shimmered. He placed it at the edge of the kidney--shaped table behind him, concealing the discomfort of his aching arm. Stretching it out was increasingly difficult.  
  
"Reader Teal'c," said Arlas. " *Zapev baques?* "  
  
Teal'c selected the mosaic, repeating Sam's actions and words.  
  
"Reader Bai, *zapev baques?* "  
  
"Kol." Ben chose the scroll.  
  
Arlas recited the final name. "Reader colonel Jack, *zapev baques?* "  
  
"Kol," he replied, making his choice. " *Cez zhaf.* "  
  
Taking the tile from Jack, Daniel turned to set it down. Every muscle hurt, his head a fiesta that went on too long. *Can't see straight.* He supported himself with the table, arm weakening. Then, feeling as though a rubber band had snapped within his head, the tile slipped out of his grasp. *Dizzy.* It hit the table with a thud. *Need to sit.* And knocked over the mosaic, cleanly splitting into two pieces. *Hold on to...*  
  
"Jeez, what's the problem?" Jack helped him sit on the nearest stone. "Easy, easy. You all right?"  
  
"Everything's spinning."  
  
"Let's get you to your room. Can you walk?"  
  
"I'm not sure," he said, Arlas kneeling beside him.  
  
"Sam, call Janet," ordered Jack.  
  
Daniel protested, forced his sight to a spot on the ground. "Help me up," he said, determined, eyes squeezed shut. *Of all days.* Teal'c held him by the upper arm, Ben the other.  
  
" *Zhep-ul*, Arlas," said Ben. "He'll be fine."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ OUT OF WHACK ~  
  
  
  
"What time is it?" asked Daniel.  
  
Jack kept his eyes on the book in his lap. "Get some rest."  
  
"Three o'clock?"  
  
"Get some rest."  
  
Daniel lifted his head. "Arlas?"  
  
"She's here, somewhere."  
  
"How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"Get some rest."  
  
"I think I've slept enough."  
  
"Better?"  
  
"Not bad. You're not a big blur anymore."  
  
"No more than usual, huh? I'll take that as a compliment." Jack closed the book. "You sure can put up a fight, even when you're sick."  
  
Daniel brought the covers to his chin. "Heat."  
  
"Been snowing last few hours. Don't have any, do they?"  
  
"Actually, they do. Save it, night phase."  
  
"Hum. Try this." Jack gave him a knit cap.  
  
"Thanks," he mumbled. "My ears are numb." *Wish I had the energy to put it on.*  
  
"Janet says you'll be okay. All the whatcha--ma--call--thems, levels, have gone down. Says your liver's working fine, hard at it. Detoxifying"  
  
"Detox? So I was poisoned?"  
  
"The tests came back. You have that seed toxin in you."  
  
"But I never...did I drink it somewhere?"  
  
"No," said Jack, rising. He threw a blanket from his legs over the footboard of the bed, tossed the book into the end. "Daniel, you and Arlas held hands, didn't you?"  
  
"It's a different world here Jack. We..."  
  
"Wait, there's a connection. Listen, I know this sounds totally out of whack, but Janet...Janet took lots of samples--blood, hair--from the Toam."  
  
"Arlas?"  
  
"Her too. She and the others, they're full of that jidal stuff."  
  
"The toxin? We already know that."  
  
"It's in everything. Organs, muscles. Including their skin."  
  
*What's he saying?*  
  
"It's a side--effect, Daniel," he said. "We can't touch them."  
  
*Am I hearing him right?* "Can't what?"  
  
"We can't touch them."  
  
*Must be asleep.* "What are you...no no, this is definitely out of whack. You must have it wrong. I want to talk to Janet."  
  
"Gone earthside. Extra tests. They want to be sure."  
  
"Hold it a minute, wait a minute." Daniel laughed at the absurdity. "A toxic people? You're telling me they're toxic?"  
  
"To humans."  
  
"Like with the Goa'uld?"  
  
"Guess so."  
  
"But Ben, what about him? He's been here awhile. He must've had some contact."  
  
"It happened on second contact--when you held hands. Plus Janet says not everyone reacts to poisons the same way. Different genetic make--ups or something."  
  
"You've got an answer for everything." Daniel squeezed the cap. "This is crazy, this is nuts. Where's Arlas?"  
  
"I asked her to let me talk to you first."  
  
"Why didn't you wake me?"  
  
"We're not making it up."  
  
"Why didn't you?" Daniel repeated.  
  
"All you wanted to do was sleep."  
  
"Does she know? What'd she say?"  
  
"Ben explained to her."  
  
Daniel kicked off the covers, searching for a radio. "Contact him. He'll know where she is."  
  
"Don't," said Jack, trying to reach Ben. There was no response. "Stick around. I'll get her."  
  
"Hurry." Daniel leaned back to wait. "There's got to be another explanation. Can't be true."  
  
"You'll know for yourself."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Sam met Jack exiting the building. "Colonel, we've got a storm in our backyard."  
  
"Perfect timing, major. Place is full of surprises, isn't it?"  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Daniel wants to see Arlas. Now. He knows."  
  
"I'll talk to him."  
  
Jack pressed on toward the Jemaj, calling for Ben again. "Good...be with him. I'll be back."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Mustering a thimble of energy, Daniel put on the cap. He couldn't lie still. It had to be a mistake.  
  
There was a knock on the wall. "Can I---"  
  
"Sam, what's going on?"  
  
"I should've foreseen this," she said. "I'm sorry. You must've built-up a sensitivity. It didn't even occur to me there could be a connection."  
  
"How Sam?"  
  
"Janet and I discovered a difference between the wild and cultivated saynon seeds, including the ones we brought from the hidden grove. They're not the same--the seeds from the grove were altered at some point--possibly by Baram, or conceivably even more recently by contamination from the *kevol.* "  
  
"So you don't know which. You're guessing."  
  
"Doesn't matter. We know enough. We know the wild saynon originally contained inactive pathways that lead to the toxic substance. It was the addition of a new genetic material that reactivated the inactive pathways, like flipping on a switch, which increased the levels of the saynon's toxicity."  
  
"Increased? And the mithridation?"  
  
"The Toam had no idea it would cause this kind of side effect."  
  
"I'm not believing this. I'm not, I'm not."  
  
"It's a lot to take in all at once. The Toam are investigating, too," she said. "Withdrawals could be quite severe if anyone decided to go that route."  
  
"Like Arlas?"  
  
"I wasn't suggesting she---"  
  
"I don't know what else to think," he said.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Drifting formed on the topsoil and underground, Zeff received a visitor, locking the trapdoor after her. She busied herself while Arlas made her case, relating the sorrow of witnessing Daniel in such a condition, in learning she was the cause. Zeff did not deny the possibility. Instead, she commiserated with the visitor and then produced, from her mixture of medicines, an antidote which might rid Arlas of the saynon's effects. Take it once for every time you would take the jidal tea, she instructed. Arlas drank the first dose, thanked Zeff, tucked the vials into a satchel and departed.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ DOUBT ~  
  
  
  
*Don't let your mind run away with you.* Janet's hard at work; there could be a cure for this rare thing--one that brought anything but hope.  
  
Sam flipped through Jack's book, blanket on her shoulders.  
  
"I don't need a baby-sitter," said Daniel.  
  
"Colonel wanted me here. Why don't we give your arm another treatment?"  
  
Daniel obliged, sliding his jacket off his shoulder. The inflammation and itching had decreased yet the arm felt wooden, soreness boring into the muscle. While Sam applied the solution, he recalled the image of her waving good bye, the collapsing bridge, freezing waters swirling below. This time he'd hang on and ride what was left of the bridge to the iridescent cliff wall, scale up, join Arlas, enfold her in his arms. *I won't lose it all again.*  
  
Sam finished when Ben hailed them.  
  
"Arlas...disapp...." Ben's words garbled in static. "She seemed...calm. I'll see...join Jack. Stay where...are...cold. Rog...out...."  
  
"We copy that," answered Sam, "mostly," and Ben was gone.  
  
Daniel's aggravation grew. "I can't stand it. Where is everybody?"  
  
"Teal'c is escorting Janet to the gate."  
  
"Damn it. Why's it so hard find one person?" He picked up his radio. "Coming?"  
  
"Colonel said...I'll tell him. Let's go." Sam left her blanket on the chair. "Daniel, be careful when you see her. Another exposure to the toxin could cause a more severe reaction than the initial one. You'll be extra sensitive from now on."  
  
"Thank you for sharing." *Be nice it's not her fault.* "I'll remember."  
  
Exiting, they received Jack's communiqué: Wait, he said, we're on our way.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
The graciousness of their friends allowed Daniel and Arlas to be alone.  
  
  
  
Arlas smiled when she saw him. *Same smile-surely nothing had changed?* He hugged her, pressing his face against hers.  
  
She twisted away. " *Nekol*, Danel!"  
  
His jaw stung as if he'd crashed into a thicket of bees. *This can't be.* He removed the glove from the unaffected hand, bravely reaching out to her. She bumped back against the bed and the side panel snapped, sliding to the floor. Don't scare her, Daniel. *I don't care, I have to know.* He moved again to touch her face, but she knocked both wrists aside and retreated to the hallway.  
  
"Do not come close," she said. "See your skin."  
  
He didn't need a mirror. *I feel it; I know its bite. Tingling, hot, burning like metal in the Mojave Desert. I am a man under glass.* Sitting down on the bed, he was unaware the panel had slid open. "You can come back in. Promise, I won't try that again."  
  
She picked up the glove, setting it on the bed between them.  
  
Leaning forward, Daniel dug tensed fingers into his knee. "What have you done to yourselves?" he asked.  
  
"We did not see," replied Arlas, with the miniscule nod at the end. "Cannot your people love if they do not touch?"  
  
He put on the glove and she leaned in lightly *as though he might break*. Daniel wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, savored the warmth, smelled her predictable hair, holding her as near as he dared.  
  
"In a way," he began, taking a deep breath. "We love people we've never met, who don't, or can't, love us back. I suppose it's still love. Not what you'd expect, that's all."  
  
"And you?"  
  
Daniel gazed upwards as if a solution floated in the air. "I'll always love you. What I don't know is what will happen to us."  
  
"If ni...I... no longer take the jidal, if we wait..." she said, disheartened.  
  
He shook his head, alarmed at the idea. "Nekol, no no, not a good idea. If you're going to try that, it has to be done under a doctor's care. Too dangerous. We both have to go back now. Come with me. There has to be a doctor...a...scientist...who can help us."  
  
"Ben has told me your heart is as true as your words."  
  
A slight tremor passed through her hand to his. "He did?"  
  
"I will go," she said.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Jack came back, eyeing the lowered bed panel. "Son of a gun. Could've saved my manhood," he mumbled. "You two all right?" He didn't wait for a reply. "It's time, wind's churning up, we're moving out. Teal'c's gone on home-- most likely chugging a hot cocoa by now."  
  
"We're coming with you." Daniel prepared for the *I--told--you--so* from Jack. "Our doctors can help."  
  
"Arlas," said Jack, motioning to Daniel. "Would you please excuse us a minute?" He led the doctor down the hallway into an empty chamber.  
  
"How're you doing?" asked Jack as they walked in. "Feeling okay?"  
  
"I'll be fine." Daniel could tell by the way Jack picked at the hair at the nape of his neck that he wasn't interested in talking about his present state of health.  
  
"I'm not saying yours is a bad idea," said Jack, putting a palm on the wall and softening his voice: "But wouldn't her own people be the best ones to deal with this?"  
  
"No. No I don't. Their use of genetic alteration seems to be mostly accidental. Artistic, not medical. This side effect is a...fluke, an...aberration."  
  
"They've been using the seed stuff for a long time. Wouldn't they be better prepared to deal with it?"  
  
"Not necessarily. Look, you yourself found out the hard way they haven't thought this creating with life thing through. They've made some dangerous mistakes. I'm certain she'll have a better chance on earth."  
  
"How many chances are you going to need, Daniel?"  
  
"There's no turning back for me, Jack," he protested. "What, am I asking too much? Should I accept it and go on my merry way? Forget I was ever here?"  
  
"I'm not saying that. But what are you going to do if they can't fix it? What if it's so much a part of them it can't be taken out?"  
  
"Then I guess it'll be over. Before it's begun."  
  
"We don't know that yet."  
  
"It's all I can do," said Daniel. "Have to try."  
  
Jack relented, standing tall. "All right. We don't have time for a debate. Let's  
  
hit it."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ STORM ~  
  
  
  
After a brief farewell, Daniel and Arlas regrouped in the Jemaj with the rest of the team. With Jack as point man, they plowed one by one through fresh drifts, a mile of visibility encouraging them on, temperature steady.  
  
Arlas preceded Daniel, unbothered by Jack's pace. Daniel withstood the journey adequately until the snowfall resumed, mild then heavier, merging with the wind and blowing over the hills in a rolling mist. He fought to keep up despite the fact that Jack was compelled to slow down.  
  
*How much further?* His legs were four--by--fours, lifting them a job for a crane. *Not another uphill climb.* He commanded forth the last of his precious reserves--the storm draining them like liquid through a sieve. *Almost there, almost there*, the mantra in his mind.  
  
Within minutes, the storm worsened, beating them back, visibility shrinking. Daniel's stamina drained to the bottom--lingering effects of the poison that could not be thrown off. He began to stumble while the others persevered, the howling gusts driving them into automatic. He picked himself up, a difficult task with the weakened arm, each time taking longer to rise until Sam scrambled forward to help. When he stumbled again, he was overwhelmed by his own weight, the burden of his rucksack multiplied.  
  
Sam yelled toward Jack. "It's...worse...Daniel...can't..."  
  
"Me either," said Ben, speaking into his radio to be better heard. "Archives. Follow the RFA."  
  
Jack backtracked through the swirling snow. "RFA?"  
  
"The road, the road with the..." Ben resorted to signing, marking the space over his head. "There." From their position, a Toam art piece could be seen on a hill.  
  
Jack shouted the order; Ben detoured to the south.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Though its wandering quality was not the shortest path to the archives, the sculptures along the road stood out unmistakably through the tempest. Arriving, they dug through to the foyer entrance, pulling off their rucks.  
  
"I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank God for those blobs," said Jack. He and Ben slammed the door shut together. "Another half--hour we'd have been dog bones." He patted Ben on the back. "Good plan, Benoit"  
  
"You're welcome colonel. Nothing you wouldn't have caught on to, sooner or later."  
  
"Don't sell yourself short." Jack unloaded his pack. "Daniel?"  
  
"Uhhh," he said, teeth chattering. "I can't feel my legs. "  
  
Arlas tended to him. " *Zhabev jul?* "  
  
"Don't mind me, Arlas...need to...thaw out, *rubazh*. I'm sorry."  
  
"No apologies," said Jack. "It was wearing us all down."  
  
"We need to thaw out," said Ben. "Came in way too fast. Juggernaut of the century." He observed noses and ear lobes. "Frostbite, ladies and gentlemen?"  
  
"Never seen anything like it." Sam helped Arlas break out a thermal blanket. "We look fairly healthy."  
  
"Have to wait it out here." Jack shook snowflakes off his cap. "Arlas, how long can this last?"  
  
" *Pof-tej gibad,* " she replied, unfolding the thermal. "The most long."  
  
Ben translated for a weary Daniel. "One face of the triangle."  
  
"Which is what?"  
  
"The longest she's seen is two weeks, or a third of the Toam day."  
  
"Break out the jokers," said Jack. "Because it sure is on us."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ DAYS OF THE WEEK ~  
  
  
  
From the mini-mezzanine of the second archival floor, Daniel observed an ominous fog cement their imprisonment. The circular double-paned window was large enough to sit two opposite one another in its wide sill, a ring of sea--fan--like laciness tendriling the rim.  
  
Below, Arlas practiced English with pencil and pad, erasing more than writing, resting on the bottom-most of the mezzanine steps curving along the chamber wall.  
  
He joined her and they linked arm--in--arm."Windows are clear," he said. "Decent view."  
  
"Mun--day, Toos--day..." she recited. "Zeff."  
  
"Zeff engineered the windows? Like the floor?"  
  
"Wid--ness--day...When disturbed, the creatures give forth *ifeb.* "  
  
"It's pronounced Wens--day," he said. "Creatures? Jack'll love that." He brought his face down to the floor. "Thank you nice, warm, little... whatever you are."  
  
"Turs--day, Fri--day, Sat--oor--day...Danel, *mafay?* "  
  
"Sun--day."  
  
"Day of sun?"  
  
"Um...English can be confusing. It's evolved over centuries. Doesn't have anything to do with the day being sunny--uh, lots of light. It's named after our sun, which is...Sun."  
  
"Sun--day," she repeated, tapping his bad hand with the pencil. " *Jafem zapev?* "  
  
"Much better. Almost back to normal." He bent the elbow back and forth. " *Tavev?* Stiffness is going away. You all right? *Jafem zapev?* "  
  
"Do not worry about *ni.* "  
  
"You're trembling."  
  
" *Nekol,* I am not one who fights cold," she said. " *Majel zhabev* earth?"  
  
"Warmer. Well, not everywhere. Snows at higher elevations."  
  
" *Talsep?* "  
  
"One satellite, the Moon. And our sun is brighter; our day's about one-- fourteenth of one face of the triangle, so we have an abundance of dark phases. They'll arrive too often for you. May I?" he asked, taking the pencil and pad, drawing a simple map of earth's solar system. "We live here, on the third planet."  
  
" *Zapev ipen?* "  
  
"I have my own space, not much smaller than this room."  
  
" *Bemah?* "  
  
"Kol. Not there much. My readers live in their own homes."  
  
" *Zhabev kif ne-deb ifem?* "  
  
"Let's concentrate on getting out of here first," he said. "We'll find a way."  
  
" *Ne--jijou mejaljah.* "  
  
"The jidal doesn't effect what you can accomplish."  
  
"I may live without jidal," said Arlas. "Not without you."  
  
He stroked her hair, the kiss he longed for unattainable. "I'll be here," he said. "Everyday."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
"What's the latest from SGC?" asked Ben.  
  
"Shhhh...," said Sam. "Take two bad-weather aspirin and call us in the morning."  
  
Jack snoozed across from them on his own spot of the self-warming floor.  
  
"Don't call us, we'll call you?"  
  
Sam said, "Don't make me laugh."  
  
Ben dealt the cards. "Exactly what we need, I'd say."  
  
"How about a round of gin?"  
  
"Well, I'm better at that than..."  
  
A sluggish Jack awakened. "Sam?"  
  
"Conditions haven't improved. We've got severe drifting. Gained about another twelve inches in as many hours. Zero visibility."  
  
"Love it, love it, love it. What's playing?"  
  
"Doesn't matter," said Sam. "I'm losing. Good night."  
  
Ben shuffled the cards, arranged them for solitaire. "Night major."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ ALARM ~  
  
  
  
Daniel awoke to Arlas rummaging through his rucksack. "What do you need?"  
  
"Not done."  
  
"What's not done?"  
  
" *Napteb.* "  
  
"The mosaic? It's there, I..."  
  
She pulled out the box, scroll, and feather tile, flinging them like jacks to the floor.  
  
"Arlas," said Daniel, picking up the tile. It had been repaired--the two halves re-joined. "Please be careful."  
  
"Ni...I...will finish this," she said, withdrawing the remaining artifact, the mosaic.  
  
"Now? Why now? We don't have the materials to finish it. Besides I thought it was supposed to symbolize---"  
  
"You do not desire it complete?"  
  
"Well, if that's what's supposed to happen, yes, but can't it wait? Why does it have to be..." He watched her replace the artifacts.  
  
"Tomorrow, Danel? Earth tomorrow?"  
  
"The storm's not letting up, it could be awhile."  
  
She took the tile from him. "Friday...your yesterday, today...what day?" she asked.  
  
*She's not making sense.* "Uh...Saturday, on earth. What do you need to know?"  
  
"The last day Sunday, the first day Moonday..."  
  
"It was moonday at one time," he said. She took out the artifacts once more. "Are you all right?"  
  
She abandoned the ruck, tossed the tile and mosaic in her satchel, and lay down. "Tomorrow."  
  
"Arlas?" Daniel waited, puzzled, then swept the thermal over her.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Jack settled in the space between two columns. "Hello. Right on time for...well, if you want to call it breakfast."  
  
Daniel glanced at the packages of veggie crackers and peanut butter. "No thanks, not hungry."  
  
"Arlas not up yet?" asked Sam.  
  
"She's still...sleeping. I think we have a problem. She's seems a little out of sorts."  
  
Ben tore open a meal. "How so?"  
  
"I found her going through my things, taking out the artifacts from the Baquep."  
  
Sam popped a gum into her mouth. "Maybe she wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything."  
  
"No, it was...weird. She threw them around like junk. Talking fast, nervous. Then just as suddenly she went back to sleep."  
  
"Doesn't sound like her. She's always been very methodical," said Ben.  
  
"I know," agreed Daniel. "That's what worries me." Sam's face reflected his thoughts. "Sam?"  
  
"The jidal? Does she have any?"  
  
"She showed me the vials."  
  
"She showed you *some* vials," said Jack. "You'd better make sure it's what it's supposed to be and go from there."  
  
"I might be able to identify what's in them," offered Sam. "The seeds have a distinct fragrance, the jidal could be similar."  
  
Daniel compared his doubt with duty to Arlas. "I'll see what I can do."  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
What better way to feel good about yourself than to steal from the woman you love? To endear yourself to her, although she's not herself right now? Is she simply reacting to stress? If it were me acting oddly, wouldn't I want my friends to find out what was wrong? Sure, go ahead, sneak around, take what you need. Don't trust me, don't ask first.  
  
She slept facing the wall and he kneeled down, placing a hand on her back.  
  
*At times you must pause your own breathing before you can feel the breath of another.*  
  
Where's the satchel? Daniel scanned the area; its tie--strings spilled out from under her coat. He tiptoed around her feet and eased into the narrow space between Arlas and the wall, working the strings with a gentle tug. It wouldn't budge. He tried again, pulling harder.  
  
" *Zhia?!* " Arlas bolted upright, not a sliver between sound sleep and wakefulness.  
  
Daniel pressed against the shelves, attempted to get out of her way, ending up on the floor. "It's okay," he said, hands held up. "Everything's good."  
  
She spoke nothing but Toam, angry as a firecracker. There were words Daniel had never before heard. To soothe her, he explained what he wanted, what he was doing, but she behaved as though she hadn't heard. *I don't understand her questions.*  
  
Alarmed by the noise, Sam and the men came up the ramp.  
  
"Let me handle it," Daniel said. "Ben--understand?"  
  
"She's incoherent."  
  
Now Arlas hastened up the steps to the mezzanine, seizing documents and lengthy scrolls which unrolled, crumpling about her. The satchel swung from her wrist.  
  
"I cannot find *jul*, " she said. "Must say, here..."  
  
Daniel caught up, convinced he could allay her confusion. "What's so important? I can help. It's what I do---"  
  
"Kol, begin," and she shoved a pile of scrolls into his arms. "Where is Bai?" she asked.  
  
"He's here." The documents dropped through Daniel's hands, crushed underfoot. "What are we looking for?"  
  
"Why my people have done this."  
  
"Done what?"  
  
"Taken their nature. Danel, *mejit, mejit!* "  
  
"I am, I am. I don't get it. Nature?"  
  
"Ourselves, *veh-eet.* "  
  
"Because of the jidal? That's no secret. It was the Hapeb, before you were born. You know that story, why don't---"  
  
She grew increasingly excited, sweeping three fingers across the top of her shoulder. "Why did they not cease? Why do they seek what has gone? *Zhabev?* "  
  
"Arlas you're sick, why don't we go down? I'll see what---"  
  
"Bai, *Ni-meff,* Bai!"  
  
Documents rained upon Sam and Jack below. Daniel tried to take the bag, but she clutched it to her side. "Why are you fighting me?" he pleaded. "I can help you."  
  
" *Ne-botazh!* " she cried out, whirling around like a tornado. She waved her arms and yelled for Ben, Daniel directly in her path. The bag swung upwards, solid as a rock, and banged the doctor's head, his feet slipping simultaneously. He toppled sideways, slapping the wall on a hip, and rolled twenty feet down through a scherzo of flying papers.  
  
Before he reached the bottom, Arlas had resumed her frenzied quest.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Daniel straightened himself out, dazed and wobbly, Ben passing by in a flash.  
  
"Your ear's bleeding." Jack stuffed a handkerchief into his palm. "Here," he said, going after Ben.  
  
"Daniel?" Only Sam's voice possessed gentility.  
  
"I'm all right." He pressed the handkerchief to his ear and crawled to the next step, braced against the wall. "Arlas..."  
  
Ben kicked aside the scattered scrolls. "She seems to be calming down."  
  
"...I want the truth," he grumbled. *Our Truth.* He started up. "Give me the bag."  
  
" *Nekol,* " she said, sweetly. "The dark approaches."  
  
"I know. Two days."  
  
"Of your world," she said.  
  
"It's what we're used to. A short day, not endless night." A thread of blood escaped down his neck. "Let me have it. Please."  
  
Jack and Ben positioned themselves between Arlas and the mezzanine's edge, Sam on the second step.  
  
Arlas said, "Danel, you bleed."  
  
*An inkling of lucidity.*  
  
"Arlas, what's in the vials?" asked Sam. "Tell us, we can help."  
  
" *Mejah jit*... " she said, clinging to the bag. "Go away."  
  
Daniel kept helplessness at bay. "All right, but will you give the bag to Ben, or Sam, or Jack first? They want to see the mosaic, to celebrate the memory of our Baquep."  
  
She examined their faces in the same way she sized up art.  
  
*Another inkling, another hope.*  
  
"Reader Jack," she said, approaching the colonel as if bestowing a great honor."Finish." Turning back to Daniel, she signed the Toam greeting, pushed her hair back from her forehead, and fainted into Jack's arms.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
Sam monitored Arlas' pulse. "Fast. Eighty-four. Fever hundred and two."  
  
Ben relaxed on the dais next to her. "You can feel a pulse through gloves?"  
  
"Surprisingly, yes. Here." She allowed Ben to press on Arlas' neck.  
  
"Stop it," interrupted Daniel. "She's not an experiment."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Sam."We were trying to---"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
"Apologies," added Ben. "How's the ear?"  
  
Daniel gently brushed his fingertips over the bruised temple. "Ringing."  
  
"How is she?" Jack reappeared after transmitting another call.  
  
Sam stretched her knees and picked up a scroll from amongst those littered on the floor. "Unresponsive."  
  
"The vials?" asked Jack.  
  
"I can't tell what it is. Doesn't smell like the seeds. Extracts can change."  
  
Ben picked up one of the vials. "So much for that. If it's jidal..."  
  
"Couldn't be. If it were, she'd be okay. This is something else." Daniel spoke to Arlas, hand around her waist: "Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Makes sense," said Sam. "Could it be some kind of substitute for the jidal?"  
  
Jack toed away tangled scrolls with his boot. "Not doing a very good job if it is. What if she's gone cold turkey?"  
  
"We're only going to find out if we ask her," said Sam.  
  
Daniel rose to address Jack. "Let me go for help. We'll be in complete darkness soon."  
  
"Impossible. You wouldn't be able to see your own feet out there."  
  
"If I stay on the RFA---"  
  
"It's buried by now."  
  
"What if it's not?" asked Daniel. "We can use it to---"  
  
"How're you planning on getting out there? The drifts are packed."  
  
*Why doesn't he let me finish a sentence?* "Just on the ground level."  
  
"What," said Jack. "You're going to skydive from the second floor?"  
  
Ben had joined Sam in picking up the scattered scrolls and he paused to offer a suggestion. "You could lower yourself down."  
  
Jack glared at him. "Down to your death, that's sweet. It's not going to happen."  
  
"What about the gate?" said Daniel.  
  
Ben offered another idea. "Yes, if you make it to the boulders..." A second glare from Jack was enough to silence him.  
  
"He's not going to make it to the boulders, Dr. Benoit, because he's not going anywhere."  
  
"Colonel's right," said Sam. "You'd become completely disoriented."  
  
"Someone agrees with me, thank you. All we can do it wait. It's bound to let up, enough for a team to get through."  
  
Daniel knelt and whispered to Arlas. "When we get home, I'll show you where King Tut lives. *Zapev ni-mapej.* "  
  
Sam stacked the last of the scrolls at the bottom of the stairs. "We should go now."  
  
"Good idea," said Jack.  
  
Ben hesitated before leaving last. "Need anything? I can bring it up."  
  
"No, don't." *Open your obsidian eyes, Arlas.* "We're, ah, fine."  
  
As Ben turned to go, there was a loud clinking against the dais; he rescued the offending object. "Must've broken off," he said, handing it to Daniel.  
  
"She said you gave her this."  
  
Ben nodded. "Yeah. Seems like eons ago. She wanted to know when you'd be coming back. Asked all the time. So I explained how we tell time. When we finally got a go on your arrival, I told her to check the days." Ben pointed to the date box on the watch's face. "When it reaches twenty--one, he'll be here. She was happy about that."  
  
"Eons ago," said Daniel.  
  
"Stalling with the seeds was her way of getting you back, too."  
  
"You two never..."  
  
"Friends Daniel, just friends. She wants _kebuv zhajni_ with you, not me. To pattern together is to dream together."  
  
"Traveling the same path."  
  
"One mind--set."  
  
"One goal, one life."  
  
"Damn, we're good," said Ben, going out. "Ring the bell if you need us."  
  
Daniel returned the slightest nod, vigilant, unstraying from Arlas.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ VIGIL ~  
  
  
  
Daniel lay by Arlas, head bumping hers, scrunching his legs to fit within the limited dais area. "The SGC is...plain, utilitarian. You'll hate it. But the gate--it's an amazing doorway between our worlds. Lots of others. You'd have to experience it to believe it. We never quite know what we'll be getting ourselves into. I've been...let's see... imprisoned underwater; met a man who showed me how to levitate--only it wasn't a magic trick, it was...a higher plain, if you will, enlightenment. Been chased by huge spiders...flown a spaceship I didn't even know where to find the mens' room in...got put in a cage, that wasn't too fun."  
  
Looking to Arlas for a response, he continued. "Found Sha're out there, like you. Lost her out there, too. One day. Or, I don't know, you found me?"  
  
He scooted to his side, forehead to the edge of her shoulder, arms crossed. Bored with his voice, he was silent for a time, reflecting on how quickly things had changed. Rolling to his back, he glanced at the mezzanine window, wishing the inclement weather were a phenomenon of the past. His fingertips poised on the bridge of his nose, an involuntary gasp escaping from his throat. "I...I don't know what to do for you. You're going to have to help me."  
  
A fullness persisted in the injured ear, stabbing pains making him wince occasionally. Sitting up after another stab, he picked up the satchel left at the base of the rampcase. He removed the mosaic which Arlas had been intent on completing and the feather--embedded tile, the latter re-split into two chunks by the impact on his head.  
  
The din of the storm had lessened; he wondered if it was truly subsiding or whether  
  
his hearing had been damaged. Putting a hand over the ear, he crossed the room and observed, through the floor skylight, Sam and Jack conversing below. He climbed up to the window, minding Arlas from the top; she was peaceful in an unsettling way.  
  
He curved his body into the shape of the sill, back fitting snugly against it, one leg in, one dangling out. The storm hadn't let up; drifts lapped at Zeff's semi--living window. Inside the sill, Daniel found a groove along the inner rim that he had not previously known. As he ran his hand over it, there was a stir from below.  
  
Arlas elevated her knees, grabbed her clothing. He descended and was beside her when she regained consciousness, feeling her forehead. " *Juljit sej.* It's all right," he said. "I'm here."  
  
She stared at him.  
  
"Arlas? Can you hear me?"  
  
"I appear *ehjeg* , Danel?" she asked.  
  
He kneeled on the floor by the dais, eye to eye with her. "The same," he assured her, stroking the curve of her arm to the sleeve's end. "But different in other ways. How do you feel? Fever's not better."  
  
"Storm pass?"  
  
"No, we're still stuck."  
  
She tried to get up.  
  
"Nekol. Don't. Rest," he said, preventing her. "Remember what happened?"  
  
Gripping his hand, she squeezed it. "You bleed."  
  
"It stopped." Daniel tipped his head to show her. "No harm done." She stretched to touch the ear, but he pulled back. "Not a good idea."  
  
" *Zhab-ni geff zhapev.* "  
  
"Nothing's changed. We have to be careful."  
  
"While asleep, ni...I... feel your hand on my skin. Gentle. _Tepiv mejaljah_ wills us to..."  
  
"You must've been dreaming." He smiled like Mona Lisa. "Not that I haven't thought about it."  
  
"All is well, as it should be. I see you wait." Arlas lapsed into Toam. " *Mapej-neh, zhej-ni...* "  
  
"It's not well, not anywhere near it." *She's still not with me.* "What have you been taking?" he asked, distressed. "It's not jidal, is it?"  
  
Ignoring the query, she reclined against the wall of the rampcase, brought the thermal to her chest, pointed at the ceiling skylight. "Ginveed flies for us."  
  
Daniel looked up, saw nothing. "What is it, Arlas?" She still did not answer; perhaps he should take this up later. "Are you hungry? Haven't had any of your rations."  
  
" *Zhabuf,* " she said, gazing out purposefully.  
  
"Okay, water. Where'd we put those?" Leaving her, he sifted through the unorganized dump of supplies that had collected between the columns. Kneeling, he shoved aside his rucksack, blankets and clothing, finding one empty canteen. "I know I put it here somewhere."  
  
There was a voice over the radio; Daniel stopped to reply. "She's awake. No, let me talk to her. I know Jack, you don't need to remind me. I'll take care of everything, don't try...yes...no...don't worry, doesn't matter what you hear. I'll call you if I need you. I don't want another scene." Finished, he moved to the right and caught Arlas in his peripheral vision. She secreted an object in the folds of her coat.  
  
He sprinted, reaching her as she swallowed the contents of a vial. "What is it?" he yelled, temper faltering, snatching the vessel from her lips. He gripped her arm and shook the vial in front of her face. "What the hell is wrong with you?! What is this shit?"  
  
She kicked him away, a hand to her lips. Daniel picked up the blanket and discovered three empty vials, one dropping to the floor. "How many?" he asked. "How many more?"  
  
"Jidal," she insisted, swinging her legs over the dais, smoothing her rumpled clothing as if she were at a dinner party.  
  
Daniel stepped away and held up the vials. "It's not," he said, laughing nervously. "If it was, you'd be fine. Look at yourself, you're shivering. The cold is bothering you now too, isn't it? You haven't made sense in days."  
  
"Water. Bring it."  
  
Daniel refused. "I think you've had enough to drink." He slipped the vials into his pocket, inspecting for concealed ones amongst the folds of her hem, the last shreds of restraint on his temper. "Are there more? Where're you hiding them?"  
  
Her fingers brushed on his face. "God damn it, stop!" Jerking away, he walked backwards while she hopped off the dais and taunted him. He tripped on a ruck, managing not to fall. "We're not playing a game," he cried. "This stuff isn't helping you. Don't you understand that?" The force of his words was frightening; there was too much power behind them to allow them out uncontrolled.  
  
*Damn, now I'm losing it.* Perhaps she'll understand better in her own language: "*Zhabev jul?* " he said, maintaining his distance although Arlas teased and giggled as if she enjoyed it, attempting to slap him anywhere she could reach. " *Tupek jul!* Stop it, please," he said, exasperated. "Stay away." *It's the drug* , he reminded himself, withdrawing out of her range each time she swung.  
  
Finally, he grew weary of the game and grabbed her by the upper arms, pinning them to the sides. Arlas was as tough as most earthmen, engaged in a tug of war with his strength. He squeezed her arms forcefully, fingers digging into them like clay. Arlas' resistance seemed to drain and she ceased fighting, bowed her head.  
  
Daniel was mortified...*I'm hurting her*...and he loosened his grip. She spoke his name clearly, raised her head, eyes unclouded, a semblance of the woman he loved emanating from the darkness.  
  
" *Zapev ni-mapej* ," she said, her expression wounded, adrift.  
  
"Come back to me," he begged. "Please..." Trusting, he released her, a sudden stab of pain piercing through his ear. But he sensed the fire recurring; Arlas' sanity shrunk away again: speaking of a goddess, the phantom ginveed, of the Sun's day and the Moon's day. She swiped at the man she loved, slapped his cheekbones and ears, spitting toward him once.  
  
"Arlas!" shouted Daniel, incredulous, recoiling at the droplet which had landed at the base of his neck. It immediately irritated the skin and he wiped it away with the back of his glove, but it merely exacerbated the stinging. A fresh line of blood spilled from his ear.  
  
"Damn it!" he said, bolting to the dais and to the bottom step of the rampcase, warning her to keep away, a rash erupting on his throat. He was surprised by Jack's appearance below and held up a hand to prevent his friend from interfering.  
  
Arlas continued toward him. "Don't come any closer," he warned. "You want to hurt me, is that it?"  
  
The question planted Arlas in her steps. " *Nekol. Ni *...I..." She fumbled for the phrase. "I seek the soul--flight, return your affection. You need not be afraid. I am free of jidal. Zeff promised ni."  
  
"My God, see this?" said Daniel, indicating his neck. "Does it seem all right? Nothing's changed. Whatever Zeff gave you, it *isn't working.* It's making you lose yourself. It's making you worse." Daniel riveted his eyes on her, observing for signs of reason. Jack was motionless beside him.  
  
"Possible," she said, hand to her own throat as if she felt the stinging as much as he did. "We must travel with no shoes?"  
  
Daniel's eyes were crescents, spilling his frustration. "Kol, a suitable color," he said. "...carefully... please, let me help you."  
  
" *Zhabuf?* " she asked, quietly.  
  
"The water's over there." He maintained his guard while she found it amongst their belongings. She enjoyed a satisfying drink, then backed against a column, settling into a stoic repose.  
  
Opening his jacket to the waist, Daniel stretched the crew collar of his shirt to clear it from the redness.  
  
Jack said, "She did that?"  
  
"She doesn't know what she's doing." He removed the jacket, letting it drag on the floor. "I don't either. I've got more truth than I can handle right now...*If she'd talked to me first*...I'm afraid to leave her alone."  
  
"It's okay. Go, get fixed up. I'll take over."  
  
Daniel was too exhausted to argue; Jack was right again. Wearily picking up a blanket, he headed downstairs, another twinge of pain in his ear to add to the burden.  
  
It was twilight; the Toam night would soon be upon them.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ BEN THE NURSE ~  
  
  
  
"Be careful," said Daniel, enduring Ben's first aid. "Don't get any on you, and don't...ahhhh...no...wait." He pushed the helping hand away.  
  
Sam peeked up from the cards. "Need help over there?"  
  
"No, it's just that Ben..."  
  
"What? What am I doing?"  
  
Daniel wanted to scream; the irritation pierced his nerves as well as his skin. "Nothing, it really...stings. You can't rub, it aggravates it."  
  
"All right, all right," said Ben. "Take it easy. Not enough damned light in here."  
  
Daniel reached over the kit and picked up a flashlight, shining it on his neck. "How's that?"  
  
Ben made a face. "God, it looks even worse that way."  
  
"Could you finish?"  
  
"Actually, doesn't seem quite as bad as the last. No blistering, least not yet," said Ben, gingerly patting the area with gauze. "How do you feel?"  
  
"I would be very happy if I never hear that question ever again in my lifetime." Daniel hated being helpless. "Especially right now."  
  
"It's not as though we care." Ben stretched Daniel's collar down. "You didn't react too well last time."  
  
The patient leaned sideways and tilted his head back, tried not to dwell on scratching. "It's Arlas who's in trouble."  
  
"Don't move," said Ben, coping with Daniel's flinching. "She's resilient. Still hanging in there. I mean, even though her...mind...is a little confused."  
  
Sam joined them. "She touched your face?"  
  
Daniel affirmed. "And my neck and my ears and my patience. Several times."  
  
"Funny, I don't see a reaction." Sam scrutinized Daniel's skin.  
  
"Doesn't feel the same either. Not like before--hurt and burned like hell. This time it's the itching and stinging, mostly. And Ben."  
  
  
  
"Here, hold this," ordered Ben, placing a sterile pad over the affected area. Daniel did as he was told while he secured it with tape. "Done."  
  
"Thanks. About time."  
  
"You're welcome." Ben gathered up the paper trash. "If your face is fine, could it be whatever she's been taking is working?"  
  
"Or like you mentioned, no time to react," said Sam. "There's the possibility her body could be ridding itself of the jidal, somehow, with this...antidote...or whatever...she's been drinking."  
  
Shaking his head, Daniel pulled on his jacket.  
  
Sam expanded her theory: "Skin to skin contact may not be the danger it once was for you and she. The saliva, well, before, it would have literally burned your skin, acting like an acid. But you've had a much milder reaction, none on your face and neck."  
  
"What difference does it make? This 'antidote' is sapping the life out of her. Some treatment. I'm not sure how much she can take." The wind whirled over the roof. *No more inklings, no more hope.* "Fucking storm never stops does it?"  
  
Ben put the kit away. "It will."  
  
"Daniel," said Sam. "Her immune system may be overreacting to the antidote."  
  
He had to ask; he didn't want to. "What happens then?"  
  
"Her body could be attacking itself. She could go into shock."  
  
He flicked at the edges of the pinching tape, unwillingly digesting Sam's words.  
  
"I thought you should know, " she said.  
  
Daniel's fingers played over his thumb. "I do. I need to know." He sighed; Arlas had worn him out and they were no better off than when they'd detoured. "How're you two doing?"  
  
"A little sick of gin." said Sam.  
  
"Ditto for solitaire," added Ben, smiling solemnly. "Poker?"  
  
Daniel rose to his knees. "Better get back."  
  
"I'll relieve Jack in a bit. Sleep."  
  
Accepting the respite from Ben, Daniel nestled on a nice space prepared on the floor, the ceiling glimmering overhead. As the night had descended, the spiraling case, floors and walls of the archive had begun to coruscate, emitting a mild light to which their eyes adjusted within the half--hour, conserving battery power. "Call me, one hour."  
  
"One hour," confirmed Ben.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
*Across a deep canyon, Arlas stands signaling for Daniel to approach. He walks forward, hears a voice. Sam calls him back, asking a question. Daniel ignores her and hurries to the cliff's edge, wondering how to cross. Deciding he must climb down one side and up the other, he searches for rope. As he does so, Sam points across the canyon. Arlas has begun to climb down the wall; she slips, rock breaking up beneath her feet. Daniel moves to help, shouts she must go back, but his words cannot be heard outside the walls of glass encasing him like the dome of the Jemaj.*  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
*A kiss, transient. A figure, liminal, fading. Stay my love...the wait has been unbearably long...*  
  
Someone has been here with me. *Arlas?* Daniel awoke with the ringing in his ear louder than before, doubled by silence. More than one hour had transpired, more than five. *Ben has struck out by not waking me.* He listened again, tuning out the annoying static in his ear: The storm had passed.  
  
*Another inkling, a hope restored.*  
  
Daniel raced upstairs; it was time to get Arlas out of here. The drifts would be difficult although...  
  
"Where is she?" he asked, panicked, nudging Ben ungently by the foot. "Wake up! Where is she?" His eyes swept the area, but there was no place she could hide. Cold had overpowered the room; Daniel checked for its source.  
  
"Oh no..." he said, running to the mezzanine window. "Oh no. She didn't..." His anger crashed upon Ben below: "She's gone! Why the hell did you fall asleep? You were supposed to call me."  
  
"Ah, crap." Benoit wiped his eyes, trying to get up. "I don't feel too well."  
  
Daniel yelled her name from the window and peered into the night, fingering the groove along the rim. "It opens, so does the outer pane." Without explanation, he dashed down and began to gather up supplies in his rucksack. "Flares, need lots of flares. Light."  
  
"What's wrong?" said Jack, coming up. An open canteen lay on the dais aside the groggy Ben. "Benoit?"  
  
"She's taken off," said Daniel. "Out the window. I'm going after her."  
  
Jack picked up the spilled canteen and asked Benoit how many fingers he was holding up. He hung his head forward as if it were too heavy, suffering dry heaves.  
  
"Something's wrong with Benoit," said Jack, supporting him.  
  
Daniel went to them. "Ben? What is it?"  
  
"Stomach, horrible. Don't remember."  
  
Sniffing the water, Jack tasted it with a lick of the rim. "Not right." He passed it to Daniel.  
  
"Smells like the vials. She must've spiked it for herself and he got a hold of it."  
  
"I was thirsty. Uhhh..." he moaned. "I'm going to lay down now."  
  
"You'll be okay," said Daniel, hastily aiding him. "Flares," he remembered, scrambling off down the ramp.  
  
Jack left Benoit in a drowsy haze and followed Daniel. "You can't go, it's too dark. They'll be sending help soon."  
  
"I'm not waiting."  
  
On the ground floor, Jack raised his voice to get Sam's attention. "Get on the radio, see if they're there. Get an ETA for rescue. Arlas is gone."  
  
Daniel rifled through the other rucks, grabbed flares and an extra flashlight, stuffing them into his pockets and proceeding to the ramp. "I'll go alone."  
  
Blocking his way, Jack placed his hands on the doctor's chest. "You're not going out there."  
  
"Get out of my way, Jack. We're wasting time."  
  
"I'm sorry, I know we screwed up. But it's still not a good idea."  
  
"If you're not coming, move." He attempted to force his way past. "Get out of my way! I don't want to---"  
  
Jack shoved him, then backed off. "Wait, wait a minute. I don't want to fight you either, all right?" he said. "I'll go along with a localized search of the perimeter, that's it. We don't extend beyond sight of the building."  
  
Daniel assented; Jack moved aside and gathered supplies into his rucksack.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
~ SEARCH ~  
  
  
  
*We were supposed to travel carefully.*  
  
Tossing out a flare, Daniel aimed a flashlight downward and leaned out the window, blood rushing to his head. Wincing, he stood straight and covered his ear with his palm. *Feels like a knife blade.* Once it subsided, he peered below and observed the vertical tunnel which had been made by Arlas upon leaping out the window, out of her mind, out of his life.  
  
Using a rope, he and Jack descended to the ground, their lights hitting a wall of black. Daniel sank to his calves with a crunch as he landed, training the beam on the high drift piled around them. Arlas' tracks could be seen nearby, a trench--like indentation in the snow.  
  
"This is impossible," said Jack. "Too deep."  
  
Daniel scanned the area. "Arlas, where are you?" he cried into the openness. At the present phase-point, Toam had no moon to provide even the barest illumination, but the atmosphere was mercifully calm. "Arlas!" he repeated. *You should have waited.*  
  
Sam stuck her head out the window. "See anything?"  
  
Daniel began to follow the trail; the snow chilled his shins. "This way." Whether Jack accompanied him or not gave him no concern. *Why did you leave me?*  
  
"Watch it, pace yourself," noted Jack. "Sam, we'll be back. Secure those windows. Take care of Benoit." He hung close, directly treading on Daniel's heels as far as he could see.  
  
Shouting her name, they allowed their lights to scout the way. Arlas had taken an illogical course and they shortcut her path wherever possible, forging their way through fresh layers of snow as high as their thighs. She'd plodded away from the archives a few meters, turned back towards it, paralleling one of its rounded exterior wings where the wind had not produced drifting. From there, she'd headed to the front of the building, in the direction of the RFA. *I never should have left your side.* Daniel's pants were soaked, toes already numb; he neither realized this nor that the trail had shifted outward, away from their shelter.  
  
"Daniel!" yelled Jack. "That's it--we'll get lost. I'm losing sight of the archive."  
  
"Jack..."  
  
"We've got to fall back."  
  
"Look." Daniel motioned ahead, lowering his flashlight.  
  
Before them, the RFA had risen from the snowy dunes, dotted with faintly glowing towers that outlined the way between the Toam community and the archives. The towers were Ben's blobs in all their lovely, giant egg case glory, stretched out before them at varying levels in the terrain, some with merely the tops exposed, others to their half-way point--welcome beacons in the night. *Another hope.*  
  
"Banobajoh," said Daniel, pinning his beam on the ground. "Tracks go on here." He waited anxiously while Jack notified Sam of the latest development, driving away Sam's words from his memory, praying Arlas had taken the RFA in her delirium and headed home.  
  
Resuming their trek, they found the snow level shallower until it came only to their knees. They arrived at the first tower, experiencing a slight warmth on their faces when they came within inches. It had melted the ice which surrounded it. Toam innovations can be useful, thought Daniel, others deadly.  
  
Dread crept into the dark, growing oppressively heavier as they marched on, Arlas' tracks criss-crossing the RFA's path. *I thought you trusted me.* The gelid night and isolated landscape sharpened his senses, summoning up a dream unwanted: a silhouette pressed over him in fitful rest, concealed in the Toam's interminable night; a kiss beloved and bestowed. Arlas had been there while they'd slept, come to bid him good-bye. Nekol, not good-bye. Simply overcome by the unpredictable recipe of altered nature, lapsed into insanity, believing in phantoms, pursuing an invisible ginveed.  
  
Not leaving me, not leaving... *I'm not ready to let you go, Arlas.* Damn it, where are you? *I have to find you.*  
  
"Let's fall back."  
  
Jack's voice jarred him. "Go ahead. I'm not." *I'll go until I can't any longer.*  
  
"Daniel, it's freezing, we're a long way out. If we don't retreat now we may not make it. Wind's picking up."  
  
"We can continue, to the town."  
  
"Even further. She's probably made it there by now."  
  
*Jack these tracks meander every which way.*  
  
"I say we..." Jack halted mid-sentence when they came up a rise, directing his lightbeam into the distance toward one of the glowing sculptures. At its base, a figure lay curled.  
  
Daniel's heart plunged, trapped inside his gut, frigid air heaving in his lungs, emerging in rapid gasps; the pain in the ear intensified, pounding. *She's not moving.* His senses converged, Jack seemed to disappear, the world around him surreal, detached from normal perception. Screaming out to her, he half--crawled through the snow, falling and frantic, the space between them the longest journey he'd ever taken.  
  
Jack chased after him, contacting Sam.  
  
"Be alive. God, please let her be..." *I'm not ready to let you go!* He cast the flashlight to the ground, lifted and drew her into his arms, enfolding her hand at his chest, her face to his.  
  
Jack checked for a pulse, warned him about the toxin.  
  
"Doesn't matter," he shouted. "Arlas? Please wake up. I'm here, I'm here..."  
  
Jack quickly lit a flare, brought out a blanket.  
  
Opening her eyes, she touched Daniel's chin. "Mejavel-ni...Danel," she whispered, her hand briefly tapping the one which held hers, then dropping to the side, arm slipping to the snow.  
  
Jack unfolded the blanket, spread it over her.  
  
"It's all right," said Daniel, caressing her lightly as though she might break, his lips on her hair, her fingers. "It's all right." *Look at me...look...* "Hang on, we'll get you bac...Arlas? *Arlas?* No, please...don't...not now, not again..." Her eyes closed. *I'm not ready...not like this please!*  
  
*Pause your own breathing, Daniel...*  
  
He did so; the seconds ripped into his soul, lengthened into torment, into anguish. There was no breath to feel; she was still, cold.  
  
*Our truth.*  
  
Rocking, he clutched her tightly, hand against her face, begged her to open her eyes, see him, come back, voice breaking as he replied: "Wing to wing." And in the tenderest way thereafter: "I love you."  
  
Jack felt her wrist, looked into her eyes. "Oh, God, " he said, placing an arm over Daniel's shoulder.  
  
*No more inklings, no more hope.*  
  
Removing his glove, Daniel trembled and touched her hair gently, feeling the smooth skin on her temples and cheeks and nose and sleeping eyes, sliding his fingertips over her lips and chin and jaw and neck, laying her head on his shoulder, stroking her back, weeping, dying again, and understanding that teardrops could be many things:  
  
Gathering and falling, swelling from his insides, taking away nothing-- neither sorrow, nor outrage, nor disbelief.  
  
But as the remnants of shattered glass fell away, he could embrace her, long and near, for the first and last time.  
  
  
  
ooooOOOOoooo  
  
  
  
No one ever told him  
  
How we are alone  
  
He learned it by himself  
  
He learned it on his own  
  
Reassurances that we are not  
  
Never took him in  
  
Because every time  
  
He looked around  
  
He was all alone  
  
Again  
  
  
  
© TSWITWP2001 


End file.
